


Idavollr

by Marzipanda



Series: Laying New Foundations [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Endgame what Endgame, Fix-It, Gen, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Prisoner Loki (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2019-07-05 11:45:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 49,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15862980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marzipanda/pseuds/Marzipanda
Summary: The Avengers have agreed to take Loki prisoner, and an obedience disk now sits at the base of his neck. As he waits for his brother to return with the remaining Aesir refugees, he has to learn to live amongst his former enemies.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Hvegelmir is required to read before this - it leads immediately into this fic and sets up the concept and the logic behind it.
> 
> Idavollr is the meeting place of the gods after Ragnarok. I thought the name was apt, even though Thor will take a few chapters to show up.
> 
> This installment is going to be much longer than the last one, now I have the concept set up. I'm breaking this series up into arcs which is why it's not one huge monster fic. It's much easier to manage that way.
> 
> I'm marzipandandy on tumblr if you feel like stopping by!

The device whirred as it dug its way into the back of Loki’s neck to anchor itself in his flesh. He did his best not to cringe. This was perhaps the worst decision he had ever made in his life. Though he kept his face neutral and still, his skin had prickled oddly. They had to have noticed. They had definitely noticed the state he was in before he covered it up again with an illusion. Loki didn’t know why he was bothering to try to uphold his dignity anymore.

“So what happened to you, anyway?” Stark asked. “Where are your shoes?”

Loki regarded him disdainfully, then glanced back away and breathed out slowly.

“I was accosted by a group of ogres, if you must know. They strung me up by my feet in their cave. I escaped by slipping out of my boots.” He added sulkily, “They were trying to eat me.”

Stark looked surprised for a moment, but then his features settled. “Yeah, that pretty much seems like it’d be a normal story for an Asgardian.”

Loki shrugged. “I suppose it’s not that uncommon, if one has the misfortune of being alone on Vanaheim.”

Stark hummed, and Loki got the impression that he had only understood half of that at best.

The room lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. It seemed that no one knew what to do now with their enemy sitting calmly in their midst. It was all very well, because Loki had some suggestions.

“Pardon me, but now that I have been sufficiently enthralled, may I ask you to remove these?” he asked, spreading his hands as far apart as he could to display the handcuffs.

“What, so you can stab us?” Stark accused.

Loki rolled his eyes. “Have you already forgotten that with the push of a button you can cause me immense pain? I’m not particularly keen to do anything that would encourage you.” Immediately upon saying it, he realised just how much venom had crept into his voice. He lessened the intensity and added,  “If you must leave them on, so be it. I just thought I’d ask.”

Stark considered him for a moment, then deflated. “Oh, what the hell,” he said, flapping a hand toward the sorcerer. “Strange?”

The wizard muttered a few words over the cuffs, and they retracted and folded themselves neatly into a cube. It clattered to the floor between them, and then rolled into a tiny hole Strange summoned in the tile. It closed behind it, but not before Loki heard it fall onto something else.

“You could have just caught it,” Loki said, bemused. He hadn’t seen such flagrant overuse of magic since he had first come into his own power. “You’re a new practitioner, aren’t you?” he asked bitterly. “Let me tell you something, fledgeling. No one will ever be as impressed at your powers as you want them to be, so I recommend you stop trying. It’s unbecoming.”

“Most people seem pretty impressed,” Strange said, calm as he ever was. “Maybe it’s different in a place where everyone can do it.”

“Everyone-!” Loki said, cheeks coloring with rage. “The only other people who were even halfway decent at magic were my mother and father.”

“Okay, I’m just gonna cut in here,” Stark said, and Loki’s attention was grabbed immediately when he saw the man’s fingers were playing over the buttons on the controller. “This is a warning. Calm the hell down. And for future reference, if you get into a fight I’m going to assume it’s your fault.”

Loki swallowed, eyes flicking from the controller to Stark’s face to the floor. “I apologize,” he said quietly, hands folded in his lap.

“Okay, good. Great. I don’t want to hear you screaming at anybody in my house,” he said, and for a moment he sounded tired. “I like to foster a calming environment. I can’t have you messing with my feng shui.”

He was barely listening. Seeing Stark’s hand on the button was uniquely unnerving. Loki had dealt with the pain before, but the anticipation of it may be worse.

“I need a list of rules,” Loki said. It would be the best way to consistently evade the man’s wrath. “I think it would be best for everyone if I knew what, specifically, to avoid.” He met Stark’s eyes for a moment before he thought to add, “I don’t know what feng shui is.”

Stark had looked serious up to that point, but now he was smirking to himself. “Oh, you know. Feng shui. Goes off of yin and yang. It balances your chi.”

“You are obviously mocking me.” Loki scowled. “Would you rather I stumble into some mistake so you have a reason to hurt me? I didn’t take you for a sadist.”

The smile dropped from Stark’s face. “I’ll write something up,” he said tersely. “For now, don’t break anything, don’t hurt anyone, and don’t pick fights.”

Loki inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement.

“Feng shui is bullshit, by the way,” Strange said offhandedly.

In normal circumstances, Loki would have said that so was most of everything else that came out of Stark’s mouth.

“I suggest you take a shower,” the wizard said, not looking at him. “Stark, since you own this facility, I’d say it’s your responsibility to clothe him. However, I’ll pick some up for today.” He glanced around the room. “I doubt any of us want to share.”

If Loki recalled correctly, a shower was a Midgardian method of bathing. If that was the case he desperately wanted to follow Strange’s suggestion, and damn how it hurt his pride. He didn’t know exactly how disgusting he looked since he hadn’t had access to a mirror, but even though he’d found a river to wash in he still felt grimy and his hair refused to untangle. He had changed into a spare set of armor, but now it was as battered and filthy as the one he had died in.

Still. “It’s not my fault,” he said, trying not to sulk. “I was stranded in the wilderness, and-”

“Loki,” Doctor Strange said over him. “I didn’t say that to insult you.” He let the statement hang in the air while Loki shifted uncomfortably, and then span open a portal and was gone.

“He’s right though,” Stark said cheerfully. “You do look awful. Did look awful?”

Loki stared sullenly at the floor.

Bruce spoke up again. “I guess I can show him where a shower is?”

“Nah,” Stark said. “I can do it.”

He turned to Loki, but it took a few seconds to pick out his words. “I saw what room Strange put you in. I guess it’s yours now. C’mon, I’ll show you how to actually walk there.” It felt weird to talk to him without insults or threats.

Loki looked like he felt similarly, but rose to his feet all the same. He was still a little wobbly, and leaned on the table for support. “What does a bedroom have to do with bathing?” He strove to keep his tone civil.

“Better to show you the one nearest to your room.” It felt like he was being more polite to Loki than he was to most guests. Then again, stiff formality was preferable to acting familiar. The third option of being aggressive wasn’t very appealing when he just got through lecturing Loki about getting into fights.

He took a few steps towards the door, but Loki didn’t move to follow him. He was instead warily staring him down. “Do not punch me again,” he said. He had tried to sound commanding, but a hint of uncertainty had crept in.

“Really?” Stark sighed. “I wasn’t planning on it.” He quickly broke eye contact and added “Not that you wouldn’t deserve it, but...”

Loki stayed where he was. Stark couldn’t really blame him, because that had been nowhere close to reassuring.

“Not that I’m not flattered that you consider me such a threat,” Stark said, his usual sarcasm creeping back in, “but seriously, do you want a shower or not?”

Loki pressed his lips into a thin line, but he stepped away from the table.

“Good,” Tony said. “This way.” He had nearly made it to the door when he thought of something else.

“Friday, tell them if anything goes wrong,” he called to the ceiling. Then he tossed the controller to Captain America. Loki cringed, and it gave Tony no small amount of satisfaction.

“You know what to do,” he called as he went through the door. It almost closed before Loki caught it.

“Did you just throw the controller at him?” he asked indignantly. “May I ask you to be a little more careful?”

“Not gonna ask why?”

“I know why. You thought I’d steal it and escape.” He was still slightly unsteady on his feet, but it didn’t make his voice lose any of its force. “Which I wouldn’t have done, mind you.”

“Uh huh,” Tony said. “Want me to walk slower?”

“Do not mock me,” Loki growled.

“That was actually a legitimate offer,” he said, slowing down his pace anyway. He had also been knocked pretty hard in the head before, so it was difficult to be entirely unsympathetic.

Loki walked silently and deliberately. Stark decided to match his pace.

“So...” Stark trailed off. He wanted to fill the silence with something. “I heard you blew up your own planet?”

Loki faltered, but before Tony could finish turning to see his expression he sped up, striding fast down the hallway.

“Hey!” Stark called after him. “Hey! Don’t leave my line of sight! Cap’ll push the button!”

He stopped. Tony jogged to catch up to where he was. When he was almost right behind him, he could see Loki’s jaw was clenched and his fingers were twitching. He decided to keep his distance.

“Woah, okay, touchy subject,” Stark said.

Loki managed to hiss out, “You  _ are _ a sadist.”

“What? No,” he said. “I just didn’t know that you, uh...”

Loki turned fully to glare at him. “What? That I’d be upset that my home burned?” he said, nearly choking on the words. His nails dug into the palms of his hands. “That everything I ever knew is gone? That I had to be the one to do it?” The ferocity in his voice grew with every sentence. “You knew, you knew damn well! I brought chaos and death to your planet, but at least you still  _ have one _ !”

Stark had been stunned into silence. Loki stared at him, shaking with anger as he tried to get a hold of himself.

A voice coming from the ceiling jolted him out of his enraged focus. “Boss, I’ve told them that something went wrong.”

Loki’s stomach dropped. He had time to think  _ Tony Stark is an absolute sadist _ , and then the pain struck him.

He would have cried out if he could make any noise at all. Slowly, he started to pitch forward, and then the ground rushed up at him.

Stark caught him before he reached the floor. “Turn it off!” he yelled as Loki helplessly twitched and spasmed. The man laid him down carefully as he shouted for someone to turn it off again.

It stopped as abruptly as it had started, but the aftereffects left him tired and gasping on the floor.

The door down the hallway banged open, and Captain America stormed out followed by all the rest. Loki struggled into a sitting position and then wondered if it had been worth it. He couldn’t fight back or run away.

“What’s going on?” Cap asked. His eyes scanned Tony for injuries.

“No, Cap, look...” he said, searching for his words. He grimaced when he found them. “I was the asshole here.”

Loki hadn’t expected that, but he was nowhere near in the right mind to analyse it. He let himself wilt by a fraction.

“I kinda brought up his planet being gone?” Tony admitted, cringing. “He didn’t attack me.” He said firmly. “Well, I mean, he did  _ verbally _ ...I should have given Friday better instructions.”

The Captain covered his face with his hand. 

Hawkeye poked out his head from behind him. “What did the button even do?”

“It looked like a seizure,” Stark answered, glad to speak about something more clinically.

While they were talking, Loki began to pull himself to his feet. He used the wall as a support.

Stark watched him, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Are you...okay?” he finally asked.

Loki glared at him.

“Well, I feel a little less guilty now,” he remarked. “On to the shower?”

“Tony...” Cap started.

“Yeah, yeah. I know roughly what you’re gonna say, but I promise I’m not gonna start a fight again.”

Steve still looked uncomfortable, but he nodded. Tony had been half afraid he’d push the issue.

“Can we get on with it?” Loki snapped.

Stark rolled his eyes. “Sure thing, princess. Right this way.”

It was a relief for Loki to get out of that hallway. He hoped that they didn’t spend most of their time collected in a giant mass of people, because running into the lot of them regularly would be a nightmare. Then again, if they did spend most of their time in a group they could be easier to avoid. Still, it was unlikely that any of this would turn out in his favor.

“Where did the other ones come from?” he asked on a whim. “The original Avengers seemed to form out of extraordinary coincidences. Rogers, Banner and your own story in particular seemed exceedingly unlikely. How have you found more?”

Tony thought of ignoring him just out of spite. “There isn’t an easy answer to that.”

“Are their origins just as complicated as your own?” Loki asked.

“Uh, more complicated in some cases.”

“Honestly, what is wrong with your planet,” Loki said, half smiling. “I have never heard of a place so entirely unpredictable.”

That raised an eyebrow. “Really? I’ve heard some things about Asgard,” Tony paused, for a second wondering if he shouldn’t have said that, but Loki’s mood hadn’t changed. “And it sounded like it’s...it was kind of crazy.”

“Maybe to you, but regardless things were easy to predict.” He shrugged. “From a young age one could tell who would be strong. Moreover the strong were all incredibly similar. They were all very good at hitting things. Here, however - and it may be because there are more of you - but here, powerful people can show up out of nowhere.” He shot Stark a smile that was mostly genuine. “It’s an entertaining quality, at the very least.”

“That almost sounded like a compliment.”

“Yes, well. Regardless, I’ll have to be properly introduced at some point.” He waited for a moment before he thought to ask, “So, what does Ant-Man do?”

“He talks to ants,” Stark said, entirely deadpan.

Loki’s face broke into a wide grin and Tony noticed, for the first time, that the man had laugh lines. He had been grinning like a maniac in New York, but the corners of his eyes had never crinkled up like they were doing now. This man had spent most of his life smiling, and that was an uncomfortable thought. It wasn’t the way Tony had pictured him.

“He can also shrink,” he added. “You should see him fight sometime. Better yet, you try and fight him.”

“I think I’ll refrain,” Loki said, his face relaxing into a smile. “I assume he’s stronger than he looks.”

“You’re not wrong.”

They lapsed into silence for a while until Loki recognized the hallway. He mapped out the way he had come in his mind in case it was ever important.

“That’s the room I was in,” he noted. “Where’s the ‘shower’?”

It turned out that the shower was almost directly across the hall.

“I just wanna say that other people live here. This is a communal bathroom,” Stark said, speaking slower than he needed to.

“We did have public baths on Asgard, you know. I didn’t visit them often, but I am fully capable of understanding the concept.”

Tony snorted. “Actually, here it’s one at a time. Just don’t monopolize the room.”

It was a bit of a relief, Loki had to admit. He didn’t want to be naked and vulnerable around his enemies.

“Very well,” Loki said imperiously. He pulled open the door.

Inside was covered in gray and white tile. Dark wooden cabinets lined the wall to the right, and the rest was covered by one large mirror. Loki decided not to look into it until he was clean again. To the left of the door there was a toilet, and in the back there was a large glass box.

Loki looked back at Stark. “Do you happen to have anything pertinent to tell me about showers?”

Stark seemed genuinely surprised. “I thought you knew what they were.”

“I’ve...heard of them.” He was growing defensive. “I know their function.”

“Alright, alright, let me show you,” Stark said as he pushed past him into the room.

Operating the machine seemed rather simple after it was explained. Loki had a feeling he could have figured it out on his own, and so regretted asking.

“This is shampoo, by the way. You should use it.” Stark said, trying to hide his smirk. Loki didn’t know what shampoo was, but he wasn’t about to ask and show his ignorance again.

“Thank you for your explanation, but I feel I can handle it from here,” he said as politely as possible. He hoped it would annoy Stark.

“Okay, see you later,” he said, and left Loki to it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki is out of the literal woods and into the figurative woods.

Apparently, shampoo was for cleaning hair. It had been yet another joke about him being oily. Loki wished he had known at the time so he could mock Stark right back for his unoriginality.

He might as well give up on his hair altogether. After all, he hadn’t been taking care of it regularly since he fell off the Bifrost. For over a thousand years he had kept it straight and slicked back, but now his natural curls had grown in again and he didn’t feel very inclined to fix it.

He did end up using the shampoo, and the conditioner that was recommended to be used alongside. He found the body wash, and the function was clear from the name. It was a relief to see all the grime slide down the drain.

He had wanted to stay in longer, a soft thump from the direction of the counters knocked him out of his reverie. He turned just in time to catch sight of a smaller one of Strange’s portals hovering above a pile of clothing before it closed without a trace.

The thing with the portals was undoubtedly rude, but Loki couldn’t bring himself to care. It was useful to have things delivered to him directly. He shut off the water and wrapped himself in a towel before investigating what Strange had given him.

He had half expected whatever he had been brought to be an insult of some kind, but there were no garish colors or pictures marring the clothing. Instead, there was a thin green sweater, some Midgardian undergarments, and dark trousers. He noticed that on the floor nearby there was a pair of decent shoes and some socks. It was an outfit Loki might have picked out for himself, which was incredibly odd. He scrutinized them, looking for any evidence of a trick, but found nothing of the sort.

They fit him well enough. He looked up to appraise himself in the mirror and cringed. Blood had pooled in his eyes when the vessels had burst, and it made them resemble the eyes of jotunn. What was more, the dark purple bruise around his neck was still horrifyingly visible. At least the high neckline covered a decent amount of it. He weaved a simple illusion to remove all visible trace of injury.

His reflection frowned at him. All the other times he had adopted Midgardian clothing, it had been a temporary illusion to slip under someone’s watch. Now he was just wearing it, and it felt wrong. His mind kept being drawn back to one problem.

He wanted a little bit of home.

He reached out into the magic pocket of space where he stored things and touched cool metal. He grabbed it and tugged, pulling his helmet back into reality. It was the one he had worn during the last battle on the bridge. Funnily enough, it had been designed to be mainly decorative and didn’t protect much of his head at all. Since he didn’t want to look like he was preparing for a fight, he might as well use it. Unfortunately when he put it on it seemed entirely too ornate to go with his current outfit.

He tried to dismiss it back to where he had pulled it from, but it remained solidly in his reality. It seemed his magic was still acting strangely. He groaned, allowing himself to mope for only a minute before he tried again. It went and was shortly followed by his filthy armor. Without much else to do, he strode across the hall and back to his room.

There was a mirror in here as well, and Loki still looked like a Midgardian. He rolled his eyes at himself and reached out again.

He had never had cause to wear it before, but at the moment a circlet was much more appropriate. It looked much more delicate than what he usually wore, though it wasn’t extremely surprising given that was crafted by elves.

The horns that curved up from the thick gold band were much shorter and unobtrusive, and there weren’t any other embellishments. It was extremely understated, and while that had never exactly been his style it was vastly more appropriate for this situation. He put it on and smoothed some of his hair over the back of the band. With that done, he was able to relax a little bit more.

Now that he looked presentable, his mind turned to food. On his way to Earth, he had managed to scrape together a few meals, but he hadn't had anything very substantial.

He decided he might as well mimic what he had seen others do. He stepped out into the hallway and turned his face to the ceiling. “Friday?” he called and waited to see if she answered.

“Mr. Odinson.” Her voice sounded decidedly less friendly.

He folded his hands behind his back and spoke as politely as he could. “Might you direct me towards the kitchens, or wherever you keep your food?”

The next time she spoke, her voice was further down the hallway. “This way, Mr. Odinson.”

He followed her slowly, taking as much time as he dared to peek into nearby rooms and make a note of the layout. He tried not to make his snooping too obvious, as he was actively talking to a being that could see his every action and report back to Stark. It reminded him of before he could hide from Heimdall, and all the old tricks he used to sneak his true intentions under the man’s watch rushed back to him.

Friday led him up a set of stairs, and there he found the kitchen. Unfortunately, he also found a group of Avengers lounging in the sitting area beside it. Their conversation ended when he walked into the room. 

He faltered for a moment, eyes flicking over them. It was Rogers, Romanoff, and Barton. At least they weren’t settled on the collection of yellow couches at the top of the stairs.

They were staring back at him. Loki swore to himself that he wouldn’t be cowed by their presence, and kept walking to where Friday had directed him.

“So, he’s just going to wander around now?” Barton asked. His eyes were hard, and Loki couldn’t help but notice he was armed. “Really?”

“No one told me not to,” Loki pointed out. He glanced over at Rogers to see if he would suffer for that.

“Why are you here?” Rogers demanded.

“I assume you mean to ask why am I here in this room.” Loki waved his hand in the general direction of the dark counters and cabinets to his left. “I asked Friday to lead me to the kitchen. You do intend to feed me, do you not?”

Rogers seemed satisfied by his answer and relaxed a fraction. “This time is fine, but Clint brings up a good point. From now on, don’t go anywhere by yourself. Friday?”

“I will inform you if he does, Captain Rogers. Can I do anything else for you?”

“That was all I needed. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“May I cook now?” Loki sighed.

Rogers took a moment before he said, “Go ahead.”

Loki wasted no time in beginning to poke through the cabinets, familiarizing himself with their contents. There were pots, pans, plates, cans, and all sorts of little paper packages neatly labeled flour, sugar, and the like. The cold things were kept behind a large metal door, and it was there near the bottom that Loki found meat. He took out a fish fillet and set about preparing to cook it.

The group was still silently watching him. Loki resolutely tried to ignore them, but the longer they stared the more agitated he became. “What?” he finally snapped after he had placed the fish in the oil.

“We’re waiting for you to make a mistake,” Barton said.

“Well you can stop because I won’t,” he huffed.

“Have you used a stove before?” Rogers asked.

Loki waved his hand over the cooktop. “Am I to assume that this device is called a stove? If so, I have not, but if you were to look at the top of it you might notice the tiny pictures that indicate what it does.”

Barton sunk farther into his chair. “God, I hope you burn yourself.”

“I will not,” he said calmly, but part of him couldn’t help but picture Barton grabbing him and forcing his hand onto the hot part. Loki knew the other man wasn’t strong enough, but the malice was there.

When he finished cooking he walked back to the sitting area at the top of the stairs, as far away as he could get from them without leaving the room altogether. At least Stark liked to design his buildings with huge open spaces in them.

They slowly began to chatter again, only glancing at him occasionally. It made it easier for him to concentrate on eating. He was almost finished when he heard someone walking up the stairs behind him.

“Did your horns shrink in the wash?” Stark asked with no small amount of glee.

“Yes,” he said flatly, and ate the last morsel of fish.

“Congratulations, now you look even more like the devil.”

“I do not know who that is.”

“Hey Cap!” Tony called across the room. “Want to explain your religion?”

“The devil is a different god?” Loki asked. “I don’t understand how that’s supposed to be insulting.”

“He’s like an anti-god, actually.” Stark started wandering towards his companions. “Tried to challenge the head honcho and lost. He’s like the worst possible guy. Lord of all evil. That sort of thing.”

“I’m not taking this off,” Loki grumbled. “No matter what Midgardian folktale I look like.”

“Oh no, it suits you,” Stark called even as he settled into a chair across the room. “It lets everyone know what kind of person you are.”

Loki stood up and went to wash his plate in the sink.

“We have a dishwasher!” Stark called. “The thing under that.”

Loki took a moment to stare at him, jaw twitching, before making use of the machine. He didn’t bother figuring out how to turn it on.

“Are any of you leaving soon?” he asked, looking somewhere in their general direction. “I wish to return to my room without...contradicting the Captain’s wishes.”

“Aww,” Stark mocked. “I call him evil and he gets all mopey.”

“Shut up.”

Sighing, Romanoff pushed herself up from her seat. “Weren’t you not going to antagonize him?” Stark flinched, but she wasn't looking at him anymore. “I’ll take you. Come on.”

She walked briskly towards the door at the far end of the room. Loki followed behind, giving the rest of the group a wide berth.

Taking the door instead of the stairs meant Loki was able to see more of the facility. Perhaps Romanoff knew that. She was an enigma. Even though the conversation with her back on the helicarrier didn’t exactly hinder his plan, the fact that she had been able to play him was infuriating.

It might have been for the best, though. If she had taken him seriously, then when the sickening rush of power had left him cold and empty he would never shake the guilt. He still thought about it from time to time, even so.

Stark’s words were still rattling around inside his head. The man thought he was  _ evil _ . That wasn’t how he saw himself, but part of him knew it wasn’t entirely unjustified. He had been playing the part of a conqueror last time they had seen him, and that was the only side they knew. The only side Romanoff knew was the man who had called her a mewling quim.

“I wouldn’t have done it,” he said to her retreating back. “Those things I said in the helicarrier.”

“What, have Clint kill me?” Her pace didn’t change and she didn’t look back.

He swallowed. “Yes, that. I wouldn’t have done it.” Then, to save face, he added, “I would have ended your life, had I won, but not in that way.”

“Uh huh.”

It was silent except for their footfalls, and it dragged at him.

“I went too far,” he confessed, hoping it might relieve some of the weight he felt pressed upon him. “I don’t even know why I said it.”

She shot him a look over her shoulder, but he couldn’t read her expression. That was her worst quality. It felt as if she had already figured him out.

“Alright, that was a lie, I do.” He admitted it with an easy smile. Better to not let her think she could make him talk with a glance. “But regardless there was no justification for it, and...I’m sorry.”

That was what finally made her turn around to face him. “Are you?” she asked, her face entirely inscrutable.

“Yes.” Loki didn’t know how to present himself. He could lean into it and adopt a mournful expression, but she would see right through that.

“Why?”

That caught him off guard. “Because it was horrible.”

She looked at him for an uncomfortably long time. Finally, she tilted her head to indicate they should continue on and waited to drop into step beside him.

The quiet was less oppressive now, at least. It would have come up eventually, with them living in the same house, so perhaps it was better he said it early. At least she hadn’t reacted violently to the reminder.

“So, why the horns?” she asked suddenly.

That question was also unexpected. “Ah, well...” he said, trying to think of the best way to explain it. “During the creation of the universe, the cow Authumbla freed Buri, Odin’s grandfather. So it is said. The cow is an important symbol of the line of Buri.” He glanced over to her to see if she would mock him, but she seemed to just be listening. “Thor has a feathered helm as a symbol of the eagle who sits atop the world tree, endlessly bickering with the wyrm that lives in its roots.”

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Why is that a symbol for your family?”

“Because it is on top of all things,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I must warn you, I may be a bit biased. Thor and I would squabble endlessly about the relative superiority of our respective symbols, and thus I cannot say much good about his.”

He thought he saw her smile, but it was small and fleeting.

They took a set of stairs to reach the lower level, and he recognized where he was. They would reach his bedroom in a moment.

“What time is it? Do you know?” he asked. He hoped it was late enough that he could justify going to sleep.

“Sometime around six. Would you like a book?” This time he really did see her smile, but it was to herself. “I don’t think any of us want to know what you’re like when you’re bored.”

“I appreciate the offer, but that will have to wait. I am exhausted,” he admitted. “It’s hard to rest in an unfriendly wilderness. Until tomorrow, Agent Romanoff,” he said, reaching for his door.

“Bye,” she said, and Loki took his leave.

It was five steps to the bed, and he collapsed atop it. He didn’t have time to notice the neatly folded pajamas on his dresser before he was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I've said, but I plan to update on Saturdays! Thank you for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Bruce aren't friends, mostly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be leaving for a week, so I posted this chapter early! See you the Saturday after I get back.
> 
> Actual notes: Scandinavian people didn't have tea until it was brought from other countries. I have made the assumption that if Norse gods don't recognize coffee as a drink, they wouldn't have tea either.

Loki was drawn out of his dreamless slumber by a sharp knocking at the door. His eyelids felt heavy, and he was slow to pull himself to sit up.

“Are you up yet?” the muffled voice of Banner called through to him. “It’s almost noon.”

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice thick with sleep. The clothes he had gone to bed in were wrinkled and felt strange on his skin. Yawning, he swung his feet off the side of the bed, but he didn’t quite feel like standing yet.

“Can I come in?” Bruce asked. “Friday bought you some clothes.”

Setting to work on detangling his crown from his hair, he called back, “Oh, why not?”

The door opened slowly, Bruce leaning into it with his back as he cradled a large box in his arms. It fell shut behind him with a bang.

“Here they are,” he said, setting the package down on the end of the bed. He patted his pockets and drew out a key, dragging it across the tape so he could open it.

Loki slid across the bed towards him, reaching to hold open the cardboard flaps. At the top of the box, there were several pairs of pants made of the rough jean material that seemed so popular with Midgardians.

He glanced up at Bruce, who had an odd expression on his face. “What?”

“It’s gonna be kinda funny to see you in casual clothes.”

“Isn’t this casual?” Loki said, spreading his arms to showcase his rumpled outfit.

“Jeans are even more casual. I mean, granted,” Bruce said, lifting up a pair, “these are the fashionable kind, but they were originally made to be work pants.”

Loki’s mouth twitched up at the corner. “I suppose I’ve had worse.” He lifted the pile of jeans onto the bed to inspect the layer beneath. The smile instantly dropped.

“I will not wear these.”

Innocently lying in the box were several regular pairs of shorts and short sleeved shirts.

“Aw, they’re not that bad,” Bruce said. “You might need them when it gets hot out.”

“Am I going to go outside?” he asked, brows furrowing in genuine confusion. “I thought I was a prisoner.”

“Oh,” Bruce said. “You...you might have a point.”

“And thus I do not need these garments,” Loki said, sweeping his hand over the box.

Bruce scratched his head. “I guess you should keep them still, just in case.”

“If I must.”

It seemed Bruce thought that he must because he took the offending items and dropped them on top of his dresser.

The next layer was more acceptable. There were a variety of green and black sweaters and long sleeved shirts.

“This one has a skull on it.” Loki held it up, his expression halfway between amused and puzzled. “Is this meant to be an insult?”

“I guess you should ask Friday? But probably.”

“My wearing it would no doubt be tasteless, and I do not want to vex the Avengers. At least not today.” He shot Bruce a sly grin. “I  _ am _ keeping it, though.”

“Suit yourself,” Bruce said dispassionately. “You  _ will _ be punched, though.”

“As if that wouldn’t happen anyway.”

“Not necessarily,” he replied. “I mean, I want to punch you all the time, but I haven’t so far.”

Loki’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “I thank you for restraining yourself.”

“How’s your head, by the way?”

“Fine, thank you,” he said, digging back through the box. He was surprised when, near the bottom, he felt leather. He snatched it out, causing several shirts above it to tumble to the floor.

It unfolded into a long green coat with fur trim around the collar. Loki stared at it, stunned. The zipper and cut of it made it clearly Midgardian, and yet it reminded him of home.

“This more than makes up for that sweater,” Loki said, trying to sound unaffected.

Bruce nodded. “It’ll suit you."

“Thank you.” He glanced back into the box to see that his yanking the jacket from it had uncovered the final layer which consisted of undergarments and socks. “I might as well get dressed now.”

Bruce backed towards the door. “Okay, well, I’ll wait in the hall then. I’ll take you to the kitchen after.”

Loki nodded and then the other man was gone. He changed quickly, choosing a thin green shirt so that it would fit under the jacket without overheating him and grabbing a pair of jeans at random. They all looked the same to him anyway. There was only one more matter to address now.

“I need a hairbrush,” Loki said, poking his head out the door as he tugged his fingers through his hair. Most of it he was able to detangle, and as he continued talking he slid his crown back over it. “And a toothbrush, and some tool to help me shave.”

Instead of Bruce replying, the voice of Friday spoke up again. “I can get those for you, Mr. Odinson. I will inform you when you can collect them.”

His eyes roamed the hall, still not quite sure where to look. “Thank you, Friday.”

She didn’t reply, leaving him awkwardly standing in his doorway.

“Anyway, should we go now?” Bruce asked. “Tony bought donuts, but if you want something less sugary there are bagels or cereal.”

“I assume those are types of food, but beyond that...” Loki said as they began to walk.

“Well, now you know how I felt when Asgardians talked about things like gravadlax or kladdkaka.”

"I would not have mentioned those two things in the same sentence, but I catch your meaning.”

“Yeah, well.” Bruce trailed off thoughtfully. “It’s not exactly gravadlax, but we do happen to have smoked salmon. It’s great on bagels.”

“I shall have to try it.”

They walked in silence until Banner thought to ask, “So, why haven’t you ever turned into a snake? Around us, I mean.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Loki asked sourly.

“Uh. No? Maybe it would be to a wizard, but...”

Loki raised an eyebrow. “Have you not heard the stories?”

Bruce shook his head. “I never really got around to reading your myths, so...”

“Not _ my _ stories. The stories about shapeshifters and the fates that befall them.”

“Shapeshifters aren’t really a thing here.”

“Are you sure?” Loki asked, musing. “I believe I have heard of humans that can take other forms.” His eyes flicked over to Bruce. “Naturally, I mean. Regardless, I suppose I should explain to you what shapeshifting actually  _ is _ .”

“Probably, because I have no idea,” he said with a wry smile.

“It is an inborn ability,” Loki explained as they walked into the kitchen. “Unlike other forms of magic, it can’t be learned. There are, of course, spells to transform people into animals or objects, but-”

Loki hadn’t noticed the other people sitting in the room, so he wasn’t expecting it when someone nearby asked, “Wait, what?”

He turned swiftly to face them, his relaxed posture tensing into something more guarded.

“Ant-Man,” he said, nodding politely at him. He recognized his voice, but his mask had been removed so he could eat a strange confection with pink frosting. A box of similar ring-like sweets and several plates were on the table in front of him. “I thought you didn’t live here.” His eyes scanned the room to find that Romanoff was also present and reading a newspaper. Bruce gave her a little wave and she replied with a nod before looking back down.

“Lots of stuff is going on,” Ant-Man said, drawing Loki’s attention back to him. “Anyway, what was that about turning people into things?”

“I suppose you are focusing on that because you think it could be a threat,” he surmised, settling into a chair across from him. He noticed that Bruce slid into a chair next to the other man. “If that is the case, then let me tell you a story.”

“Okay,” the man said cautiously. “My real name’s Scott, by the way. It’s weird to be Ant-Man when I’m not fighting.”

“Well then, Scott,” Loki said, trying out the name. “Once, I turned my brother into a frog.” He allowed the man a second to gape at him. “Unfortunately, the spell didn’t make Thor any weaker, and he was still capable of wielding Mjölnir. It was hilarious,” he said as he grinned at the memory, “but eventually he caught me and I had to turn him back. I believe Stark mentioned you had a similar power, where you could grow small but retain your strength.”

“Well, yeah,” Scott nodded. “Okay, so that isn’t as much of an issue as I thought it’d be.”

“What about turning people into objects?” Romanoff asked, not looking up from her newspaper.

“Unfortunately, those spells can be broken with concentration. Given that people as objects have nothing to do but concentrate, the most I have had one last is about an hour.”

“Good to know,” she said as she flipped to the next page.

“So, you were telling me about shapeshifting?” Bruce prompted. He then pointed to the box on the table. “These are donuts, by the way. Want one?”

“Yes, thank you,” Loki said graciously, picking up one with brown frosting and no hole through the middle.

“That’s Boston Cream,” Bruce explained without prompting. Loki nodded and took a small bite. It was inoffensive, as far as Midgardian food went.

Loki considered Scott for a moment. Now that it wasn’t just Banner he was talking to, he found himself less willing to share information. Then again he had already decided to refrain from shapeshifting, so it wasn’t as if the knowledge could be used against him.

“Anyway, I believe we were talking about the fates of other shapeshifters. I won’t recount them all to you, but time and again I have heard stories of those with my ability having it used against them. For example, there is a horrific story of a man taking the form of an otter and being killed and skinned for his pelt.” Loki grimaced at the thought. “Shapeshifters do not retain their natural strength and durability. They instead adopt those of whatever they turn into. It might be a useful skill for those born into weaker races, but as for me I do not wish to die in such an undignified manner.”

Scott spoke around a bite of his own donut. “Makes sense.”

“So,” Bruce said. “What kinds of things can you turn into?”

Loki took another bite before replying. “Almost anything living, but not specific individuals. For example, I cannot turn into a black cat, but I can turn into myself  _ as _ a cat, if that makes sense.”

“Huh. So, what do you look like as a cat?”

Loki supposed he shouldn’t be too surprised at the question. “Orange and black. Short-haired. Green eyes.”

Bruce was curious despite himself. “Can I see?”

Loki frowned at him. “I just explained to you why I’m uncomfortable shapeshifting.” He took another bite, hoping it’d end the conversation.

Unfortunately, it seemed as if Scott was interested as well. “Aw, come on. We’re not gonna do anything. There's more than one way to skin a cat, but you don't have to do it in the first place, you know?”

Loki regretted answering Bruce’s first question. He should have seen it would lead to this, and he realized that he had let his guard down too much. Bruce was currently amongst his own people, and whatever tentative understanding they had built on the Statesman was worthless. Now that they knew, though, he might as well comply and hope that they’d lose interest.

“Alright, fine,” Loki sighed. “Let me finish eating first.”

“Sure,” Scott said, grabbing himself another donut.

Loki could feel Romanoff’s attention on him, as well. He didn’t think they’d try to kill him, but being in another form left him vulnerable. If Bruce wasn’t here he wouldn’t even entertain the thought, but he felt at least somewhat confident that the man wouldn’t let him be harmed.

There were only a few bites of donut left, so he didn’t have much time to dwell on it. The two men gazed at him expectantly, and he rolled his eyes and pulled his feet onto the chair.

“I don’t want to end up on the floor,” he said by way of explanation, and then he started to change. It took less than a second, and a small cat was left on the cushion where he had sat. A large metal button was stuck to the back of its neck.

“Jeez,” Bruce said. “I’m so jealous your clothes change with you. And glad, actually, because I didn’t think about it ‘til just now.”

Loki’s tail swept from side to side, thumping against the back of the chair.

“Woah,” Scott said, half serious. “No need for the hostility.”

“How does that even work?” Bruce asked him. “Where did the rest of you go? I need to know what this means for the conservation of mass.”

If he was expecting an answer, he wasn’t going to get one yet.

“I thought you’d be bigger,” he heard Romanoff say from directly above him. Loki turned back immediately, sprawling across the armrest and then twisting to look up at her. She was leaning casually on the back of his chair.

“Hey,” she said with a little half smirk.

He scowled up at her. “Was that really necessary?” Not waiting for a response in an attempt to play the event off, he turned to Banner. “Cats can’t talk, Bruce.”

“Not even magical shapeshifter cats?”

“No. Romanoff, might I ask you to move so I can sit up properly?”

“Sure.” She settled in the chair next to his, allowing Loki to right himself.

“Bruce, to answer your question requires me to become familiar with your scientific vocabulary. I could use my own words, but I’m fairly certain they won’t mean anything to you.” He sighed. “The simplest answer I can give is that it temporarily goes to a small, timeless universe that only I have access to, and a more complicated answer would require me to define a great deal of things. Honestly, I can’t be bothered right now.”

“Can you not turn into bigger things, then?” Bruce rose from his chair. “I’m gonna make some coffee, anyone else want some?” The other two heroes accepted his offer with their thanks. “I’ll just be over there so you can still answer.”

“What’s coffee?” Loki asked his retreating back.

“It’s kind of like tea?”

Loki sighed, twisting in his chair to see where he went. “And what, exactly, is tea?”

That seemed to surprise Bruce. “Um. A hot drink, with milk. Coffee is, too.” He grabbed a glass contraption from the kitchen counter, scooping some brown powder into the bottom. “You know what, I’ll just make you some and if you don’t like it you can toss it. I’ll even put some chocolate syrup in to make it a mocha.”

“Hopefully I’ll like it,” Loki said, watching him work. “I can turn into larger animals, to answer your question. I just borrow substance.”

“So, is there a limit? Could you become an elephant?”

“I don’t know what that is, Bruce,” he said, halfway between amused and exasperated. “Though I suppose if I did, I would be able to. I’ve turned into large things before.”

“Like what?”

Loki let his head rest in his hand, his elbow on the arm of the chair. “The largest thing I can think of that you’d recognize is a bull. And before you ask, fawn colored with large horns.”

“It’s probably not a good idea to ask to see it right now, is it?” Bruce mused. “You’d fall through the floor. Elephants are much bigger. Several times bigger.”

“If that’s all, then in all likelihood I could become one. I don’t see why I ever would, though.”

Bruce had poured hot water into the glass, and the scent of it filled the air. It was unlike anything Loki had ever smelled before, but it wasn’t altogether unpleasant. Scott was playing with his phone, and Romanoff had brought her paper with her. The room was calm and quiet. It was the perfect chance to bring up something that had been bothering him.

“Are you unable to contact my brother?”

“Hm? Oh.” Bruce took a second to glance up from his work. “Yeah. We didn’t really have time to set up deep space communication before he left. We only got Valkyrie’s message because the Guardians were around, and they’ve gone with him. He left three days ago, right after we heard from her. Rocket said they should be back in a little over a week.” He looked down to pour the coffee before continuing. “Thor could use his axe to teleport instantly, but it wears him out and he can only take so many people.”

“I have many questions,” Loki said, studying him intensely. “But I will ask this first: Who are the Guardians?”

“The Guardians of the Galaxy. They’re...um...”

“They’re really something, aren’t they?” Romanoff said.

“They’re like...” Bruce said, and smiled to himself. “They’re like if Korg was a group of people, I guess.” He went back to the drinks, but then looked up sharply. “Not as in they’re made of rocks.”

Loki nodded. “Well, I guess Thor will be fine, then. They are trustworthy?”

“He should be.” The soft chime of a spoon stirring underlaid his words. “They’re the ones who saved him after Thanos destroyed the Statesman.”

“Oh.” Loki looked down at his hands. “I shall have to thank them.”

“You know,” Scott said to draw Loki’s attention. “You’re not as much of a bastard as I thought you’d be.” Loki’s eyebrows brows drew together. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I still think you’re a bastard. You just haven’t hit _peak_ bastard.”

Loki shot him a withering glare and turned back to Bruce. “Thor has an axe now?”

“Yeah, he went to...nida...needa...the place with dwarves.”

“Nidavellir.”

“There. Also...” Bruce took a deep breath and looked up to meet his eyes. “Thor said that Thanos had been their first. He killed everyone except for the king.”

Loki was on his feet before he thought about it. When his mind caught up with his body, he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Loki?”

Loki didn’t meet Bruce's eyes. His breathing was fast and shaky, but he steadied it enough to speak. “I don’t even like the dwarves,” he said as he began to pace. “Awful creatures. I know Eitri. He and I never got along.”

“Loki...”

“His brother tried to cut my head off once. He-” and then he stopped when it struck him that Brokkr was surely dead. He pressed his hands together to stop them shaking. His hatred for Thanos surged up within him, powerful almost to the point of making him sick. The titan was dead, and yet Loki wanted so badly to make him pay for all he had done.

“Loki, sit down,” Bruce commanded, and it shocked the other man enough to make his head snap up. “Coffee’s ready.”

Without the swirling spiral of his thoughts, Loki was able to take a deep breath. He lowered himself back into his seat, accepting the hot mug that was offered to him. It had a generic Stark Industries logo on it, but the others were mismatched and Loki latched onto studying them as a distraction.

Romanoff was handed a cup that was ringed with little sailboats. Scott’s had a red gingham pattern as well as a scattering of styalized black ants drawn with foolishly wide grins. Bruce had chosen for himself a white mug with a strange pattern on it. There was a hexagon and a pentagon drawn next to each other with several branches shooting out from their points labeled N, O, CH 3 , and H 3 C.

“What is that?” Loki asked. His voice sounded feebler than he’d like. “That...design.”

“A caffeine molecule. It’s in coffee.” He punctuated his explanation by taking a mouthful of his drink.

Loki tentatively took a sip of his own. Its taste was as unfamiliar as its scent, the milk and sweet chocolate offsetting the natural bitterness but not overwhelming the flavor. He decided that he quite liked it.

“So, what was that about cutting your head off?” Bruce asked.

Loki took a swig of his drink so he wouldn’t have to answer immediately. If he had genuinely believed Brokkr’s intent was to kill him, recounting the event would have been so much easier.

“I made a bet,” he said finally. “The sons of Ivaldi were making gifts to present to my family, and I wagered my head that Brokkr and his brother Eitri couldn’t craft presents that would please them more. I lost, and he came to collect.”

Bruce took a moment to work out how to respond. “Why did he even want your head?” he finally settled on. “I mean, wouldn’t murdering you start a war with Asgard?”

“Why would it?” Loki sighed. “I made the bet of my own free will, and legally he had a right to claim what was his. He told me he looking forward to using it in his crafts. The body of a wizard retains magical properties after death.”

Bruce looked stunned. It made the god uncomfortably self conscious.

“I realize the bet was  _ stupid _ ,” Loki said, hunching his shoulders. “In my defense, I was a child.”

“Wait, you were a kid?” Scott interrupted. “Oh, that’s messed up. How old were you?”

Loki pursed his lips and for a moment considered not answering. “Several hundred years old. I believe I was about the human equivalent of twelve.”

Scott looked like the revelation personally offended him. Loki hurried to continue his tale before he could say anything.

“Brokkr chased me throughout Nidavellir with his axe. If he had truly wanted to, I believe he could have caught me. Regardless, I had enough time to come up with a new plan.” Loki said the next part with no small amount of pride. “I said he had a right to my head, but no claim on my neck. We argued over where the boundary was until he gave up.”

“He just let you go?”

Loki's smile faded slightly into something more cynical. “Not exactly. Instead, he decided that since he still had a right to what we both agreed was my head, he wanted to put a gag on me. It was a fair sight better than the alternative.” Quickly, he moved the subject from his own mistakes to moaning about someone else. “He was unbearable afterwards. Every time I visited Nidavellir he just had to bring it up.” 

Loki could still remember Brokkr’s booming laugh echoing across the rig. Thor had taken Brokkr’s attempts to behead his brother as a personal affront and had managed to muster a level of sourness that Loki himself hadn’t reached. Loki had taken that as an offense at the time. He had thought he could take care of himself.

“Wait,” Scott said, understanding dawning on him even as his mouth twisted in distaste. “The way you said that...was that some Asgardian idea of a prank?”

Romanoff laid a hand on his forearm.

He turned to her, his voice growing quieter. “Twelve...” he said. “That’s like my daughter’s age. I mean, he’s an asshole, but chasing a twelve year old with an axe?”

“Oh, I’m  _ fine _ ,” Loki cut in. “You can stop. Brokkr...Brokkr’s dead now, anyway.”

“Did you  _ like _ him?” Scott asked incredulously.

Loki reached for his mug. The coffee was quickly losing heat, but that only meant he could drink it faster.

“Scott, just drop it for now, okay?” Bruce asked quietly, and Loki couldn’t help but feel grateful.

Bruce turned back to the god. “Tony wants to talk to you after you’ve eaten, by the way. Are you ready to go, or do you wanna grab something else?”

“Depends on what he wants to talk about. If it’s some pretense to shock me again, I can’t say I’m very enthused.”

“It’s kind of about that, actually,” Bruce said, refusing to be affected by his moping. “You asked for a set of rules to follow.”

“Well I suppose that’s useful,” he admitted, but made no move to rise. Bruce waited almost a full minute before he decided to move himself.

“Come on,” he said, and Loki had no choice but to comply.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki has a nice chat and nothing bad happens.

Bruce led Loki to a part of the building he hadn’t seen before. From what he glimpsed when sneaking glances into the rooms they passed, it looked like they had left the living quarters and entered into a space reserved for lab work. The fact that they were here instead of a more appropriate area for a discussion made him uncomfortable, but he wasn’t about to ask why. Perhaps Stark just didn’t want to be drawn away from whatever it was he was doing.

They approached a wall made of glass, and Loki could see Stark gesturing animatedly behind it. He seemed to be speaking in an endless stream. Rogers, who sat in a haphazard circle of chairs in the center of the room, appeared to be paying attention. Strange, however, was entirely involved in a spell he was weaving.

When the door was opened Loki heard a small snippet of a sentence. “-and so Hap wanted me to-”

Bruce rapped his knuckles on the wall. “Hey,” he called. “We’re here.”

Stark instantly dropped his wild gesticulating and span to face them. “Took you long enough. Come on, come in, we’ve been waiting for you.”

Bruce easily accepted Stark’s invitation, but Loki followed more cautiously. His eyes raked over every surface in the room, searching for anything that might be a threat. All of the tables save one were cluttered with various bits of electronic equipment and he had no idea what any of them might be used for. His unease was growing, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He couldn’t run, not with the disk on the back of his neck.

Stark swiped up several pages of paper from the mess on the table next to him. “We wrote you a list. Sit down.”

He pointed to the circle of chairs. Loki sat down across from Rogers, while Bruce again chose to sit next to one of his Avengers friends. He was intentionally trying to distance himself, then. Stark threw himself in the seat to Loki’s left between him and Bruce, and Strange took the one to his right.

“So,” Stark began, eyes focused on the document he had no doubt written himself. “We’ve been reading up on normal prison rules, so a lot of this is based off of that. The basics of it are rights, punishments, and privileges.”

He glanced up for a second to see if Loki had understood.

“Okay. First of all, your rights.” Stark ran a hand through his hair. “Cap, you tell him. It’s more your thing, anyway.”

Rogers shot him a look but began to speak. “You have a right to healthcare, food, water, and clothes. You have a right to safety, which means no one will hurt you unless it’s a last resort.” He looked meaningfully at Stark and it made the man shrink back slightly. “What Tony did was wrong. It won’t happen again. Beyond that, you have the right to practice whatever religion you follow and to have visits with your brother.”

Loki arched an eyebrow. “I was assuming you’d hold visitation over my head to ensure my compliance.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Stark said, an unpleasant smile plastered on his face. “We can still cut down the amount of time you’re allowed to see him if you’re being an asshole.”

Loki bit his cheek, then took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Fine.”

“Moving on to punishments!” Stark looked back to his paper, even though he probably remembered everything on it. “First of all, punishable offenses. Violence, getting in anyone’s way, stealing...” He glanced up and elaborated, “You should ask before you touch anything. Okay, let’s see...don’t touch any weapons. You aren’t allowed to keep any, either.”

Loki didn’t let anything show on his face, but he couldn’t help but think of the assorted knives and additional weaponry he kept magically stored on his person at all times. It should be fine if he kept them hidden. He wasn’t planning on using any of it regardless. It would just make his situation worse.

“Don’t destroy anything. Don’t go anywhere without supervision and if someone tells you to do something, you do it. Don’t threaten anyone and don’t be...” Stark’s eyes slid over to Rogers for a moment. “Disrespectful.”

“Ah.” Loki lifted his chin. “So that will be your excuse.”

“What?”

“Your excuse. To hurt me.”

“Okay, no-”

Rogers cut in. “Are you saying you’re incapable of _not_ being disrespectful?”

“Undoubtedly. I couldn’t keep myself from insulting Thanos, and I was terrified of him.”

“Really?”

Loki’s mouth quirked up slightly at the corner, but his eyes were hard. “As he killed me, I used the last of my breath to gasp out one last barb.”

Rogers stared at him. “Well,” he said finally. “Maybe we can teach you to be polite. We’re not going to zap you just for being rude, though.”

“Well, then,” Loki said, eyes moving to Stark. “What reason will you come up with?”

The other man’s jaw twitched. “Do you _want_ me to hurt you? Is that what this is?”

“I am not going to cower like a dog and beg you not to if that’s what you’re expecting.”

“Ugh, fine!” Stark threw his hands in the air. He almost lost one of the papers. “I don’t get the controller, alright? Will that make you shut up?”

Loki was taken aback for a moment, and then he narrowed his eyes at Stark. “Do you mean that?”

“Yes, I mean that,” Stark sighed. “That thing in the hallway was an accident and I’m _sorry_.”

Loki swallowed and looked away from him. “Fine.”

“I can...” Bruce said, reaching to take the papers from Stark. “I can read off the punishments.”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best.”

Bruce cleared his throat. “Okay, um, Loki?” He waited until Loki dragged his eyes back over to him to continue. “If you don’t follow the rules, you’ll be confined to your room. We’ll bring you food and things like that, but you won’t get to leave. That can last up to two weeks, depending on what, exactly, you did. You already know about restricted time with Thor, so...” his eyes scanned down the page. “If you’re being violent, we may have to restrain you until you cool down. Using the controller will be a last resort and we'll only do it if we have no other option. And then there’s restricting your privileges.”

“If you behave, you’ll earn access to the library, alcohol, and...” he smiled and glanced up at Loki. “Open air time, as in you get to go outside. Supervised, of course.”

Loki gaped at him. “Wh- are you _serious_? What the hel kind of-”

“Only if you behave,” Bruce reminded him.

The shock was plain on Loki’s face. He was clearly searching for a reply, and when he found one his eyes crinkled at the corners again. “You are kinder jailers than even my mother. Really. ‘Open air time’.”

Rogers was unruffled. “Even max security prisoners get forty-five minutes a day. They don’t on the Raft, but...” he shrugged. “I never really liked that place.”

“And only if you behave,” Bruce said again.

“May we go back to the subject of my religion?” Loki asked, feeling a flutter of excitement despite himself.

“Yeah, I guess?”

“I didn’t mention this because I thought you’d refuse me,” he said, trying to hide his eagerness. “But if you will allow me to go outside, I’d like to bless the ground where the new Asgard will be built. That, and look for land wights.”

He hadn’t expected it to be Stark who nodded. “If you behave, then sure.”

“Wait, Tony,” Bruce said, sparing Loki a single glance. “How would we be sure he wasn’t...you know, cursing it instead?”

It shouldn’t have hurt. Loki tried to focus on the fact that Bruce thought he was dangerous enough to have every movement scrutinized. He was dangerous, unpredictable, and a force to be reckoned with, which was how he wanted to be seen. Bruce trusting him to be kind to his own people would have been foolish, and he was not a foolish man.

Strange had a solution. That seemed to be a trend. “I know enough about Asgardian magic to know if it’s hostile,” he told them. “That won’t be a problem.”

“Oh, well, that’s a relief.” Bruce smiled at the sorcerer. Loki took the time to inspect his nails.

“Okay!” Stark clapped. “Speaking of New Asgard, I’m working on a rough model. When that’s done, I’d like you to look it over and make suggestions. I’m hoping you can use more specific language than your brother.”

“Where will the refugees stay when they get here?”

“You picked up on that little problem instantly, didn’t you? T’challa is going to take them in temporarily. He has the space.”

His eyes narrowed. “And who is that?”

“The king of Wakanda. You’ve been gone for a while. Lots of things have happened.”

“I’ve noticed.” Loki ached to ask Bruce if this T’challa was trustworthy, but he had paid too much heed to Banner’s opinions already. He’d have to have faith in Thor’s judgment, now.

“He’s a nice guy,” Bruce said anyway, entirely unprompted. “Very reasonable. I haven’t really had much time to hang out with him because he was dead for a year, but he still made an impression.”

“Hm.”

“Now,” Stark started speaking to draw attention back to himself. “Going back to the subject of weapons, don’t think I haven’t noticed all the things you’ve been pulling out of thin air. What other stuff do you have stored away, huh?”

A glance at Rogers, and Loki saw the controller wrapped in his hand, a finger resting on the button. Loki felt the blood drain from his face.

Stark was quick to add, “That's only so you don't stab us. We didn’t ask for them before so you get a free pass this time. Just hand any weapons over, nothing bad will happen.”

He couldn’t believe Stark was trying to comfort him. He had to admit that bringing the controller out made a certain kind of sense if he was about to be actively handling weaponry. He had offered it to them so they could be assured they could stop him from hurting them, after all. Loki swallowed, regaining his composure. “Fine,” he said with all the haughtiness he could muster. “May I at least ask that they will be handed over to my brother?”

“Sure. I don’t want them.”

Loki’s jaw twitched. He closed his eyes, giving himself a moment to breathe before he spoke. He was already running through his options. It might be a risk, but Loki didn’t plan to give them everything. If he could just prevent the sorcerer from knowing that then he’d be in the clear. He had to trust that whatever version of Loki that Strange had seen had the same idea.

“I’m going to stand up. I don’t want to be shocked. What I want is to put everything on a table, because the alternative is piling it all on the floor in front of me.”

Stark nodded and rose himself, rapping his knuckles on the only clear surface in the room. It was right next to them, so they didn’t have to move very far.

Loki narrowed his eyes at Strange. “I suppose you still have knowledge of the future.”

“You really are very clever, aren’t you?” he replied.

Stark raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

“Alright, yes,” Loki said testily, finally raising his arms. Two knives slid out of the air and into his hands, and he laid them down carefully. “This may take a while. I could drop them like I did the controller, but they are very sharp, I would not be able to control precisely where all of them would land, and I’d be in the center of it all. You’ll forgive me for wanting to avoid that experience.”

“How many do you even _have_?” Bruce asked as Loki settled into a rhythm of drawing sets out and laying them neatly in rows.

“I’m not exactly sure,” he admitted. “Hundreds, at least. I’ve gained and lost so many.”

Bruce’s eyes asked him _why_ without him actually having to say it.

“I have near infinite space to store things,” Loki explained. “I’ve never had a reason to reduce the number of weapons I have on my person. Admittedly there was the time I was arrested, but when I became king I took all my confiscated items back without bothering to count them.”

Stark reached out to grab one and Loki faltered for a second. “Those are very sharp,” he warned.

“Yeah, they’re knives. I figured I’d pick it up by the handle.” Stark turned it in his hands, watching how the light played off the blade. Loki recognized that particular knife. He hadn’t used it in years, though he had fought with it several times on Vanaheim alongside his brother.

“What metal is this?”

Loki ducked his head down, deciding he didn’t want to watch. “Uru, same as most weapons from Asgard. Forged in the heart of a dying star.”

“Like Mjolnir?” He squinted at it. “Huh.” Absentmindedly, Stark drifted towards his lab equipment. “I’m going to run some tests on this.”

Loki pursed his lips and paused. “You said you’d give them to Thor.”

“Yeah, I will, but he won’t be here for a few days. I won’t take that long. Don’t stop those knives coming, by the way, we’re still confiscating those.”

Loki placed the next set on the table with a little more force than necessary.

“How did they even get those off you in the first place?” Bruce asked.

“Mother,” he said plainly.

“Right. Um...” The room descended into an uncomfortable silence.

Bruce left to go peek over Stark’s shoulder, and Strange again worked on some type of spell. Whatever magic the man used, it was unfamiliar to Loki. He couldn’t begin to guess what he was doing, and that irked him to no end. At least no one was trying to talk to him anymore.

Eventually, the entire length of the table was covered in knives of varying lengths and designs. Loki had considered sorting them by size or color, but ultimately it was much more satisfying to give the Avengers a disordered mess.

He needed to use a different gesture to bring out Lævateinn. The sword dropped into his hand, and Loki couldn’t help but take a few seconds to take comfort in its once familiar weight. It had been centuries since he had held his formerly favored weapon.

“Is that a sword?” Rogers asked, and Loki couldn’t believe it was he who said something so rude.

“Of course it’s a sword,” he said, reluctantly lowering it onto the table.

“It’s wooden.”

“What part of being wooden could make it not a sword?”

Rogers shrugged helplessly and glanced back at Stark.

“This sword is as sharp as any made of metal,” Loki continued irritably. “It was crafted from wood that only grows on Niflheim. Uru holds enchantments, but wood can channel and amplify them.”

“Thanks for the info!” Stark called over his shoulder.

Loki clenched his teeth but let the subject drop.

Instead, he held his hands in front of him and summoned a blue cube to float between his palms.

Stark’s eyes were drawn back by the soft light, and it took a moment before they widened in shock. “The hell is that?”

“The Casket of Ancient Winters.”

“It looks like-”

“I know what it looks like,” Loki snapped. “It’s not.” He took care not to touch the cube as he set it down. “I would suggest not picking it up without gloves. I’m not entirely sure what it would do to a human, but I’m fairly certain most of you cannot survive being frozen.” His eyes flicked up to Rogers for a brief second.

“You’re not touching it, either,” Stark noticed.

“Its power is enough to freeze even an Aesir,” he said and quickly moved to another topic. “I’m not entirely sure Thor has explained to you the difference between Aesir and Asgardians. Aesir is the race, while Asgardians hail from the nation of Asgard. Not all Aesir are Asgardian, and not all Asgardians are Aesir.”

“Huh.” Tony’s eyes focused on the swirling depths of the Casket. “So, why did the Asgardians make a weapon that they can’t pick up?”

“They didn’t,” Loki said. He didn’t want to show his irritation, as someone in the room might be able to read into it. He didn’t know how much Thor had told them, but he’d be damned if he’d let anything slip.  “Odin took it from Jotunheim after he won the war against Laufey. He considered it to be too dangerous not to be kept guarded in his personal weapons vault.”

“Who?”

So they didn’t know the name of his true father, at least. “The king of the Jotuns,” Loki said neutrally and waited to see how they’d respond.

“Never heard of them.”

“Hm...” It could be a risk, but Loki needed to know what they did. “Frost giants?”

“Not ringing a bell.” Well, that was a relief.

Loki summoned the Warlock’s Eye in the hope Stark would ask what it was.

“Who are they?” Stark asked. Damn.

“A race of monsters,” Loki sighed. “Ancient enemies of Asgard, and Midgard as well. They tried to invade your planet...oh, around a thousand years ago? That was the cause of the war, and at the end of it Odin took the Casket from them.” His fingers tapped along the table, and then he looked up sharply.

“Actually, they may become a problem. On their planet, they have a pathway to Earth. I forget where it leads to, but...” He shrugged. “The threat of Asgard’s might once kept them at bay, but who knows how long it will take them to try and expand again?”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Stark glanced over the table. “Why aren’t you moving as fast?”

“Unfamiliarity. I can summon a knife as easy as breathing, but these I have to think about.” It would be easier if Loki just thought _weapon_ , but he didn’t want to give them anything he didn’t mean to. Instead, he had to remember what, exactly, he was carrying on him.

Loki drew several less interesting weapons out, including an assortment of swords and spears, and then he decided that was enough.

He swept his hand over the table and declared, “Here you are. I’d tell you not to damage them, but I doubt you are capable of doing so.”

“That’s not all you have on you,” Strange said calmly, eyes briefly looking up from his spell.

“If it isn’t, I - ah!” Loki declared, pulling yet another item out of the air. “Is this what you meant? I wouldn’t class it as a weapon, exactly, but the Tuning Fork could be used to-”

He jumped slightly when something heavy hit the ground behind him. He spun to see a chair, still wobbling from the fall.

Strange had ended his spell again and was looking fully at Loki. “Please have a seat.”

It would be obvious something was wrong even if they hadn’t all looked incredibly guilty. Loki glanced at the chair again. It was blocky and wooden, with metal embedded in it near the wrists, ankles, chest, and neck. It thrummed with a low level of magical energy.

“If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll refrain.”

“You still have weapons,” Strange said. “Hand those over, and you can leave.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Loki said. His mimicry of confusion was perfect.

“Sit in the chair, Loki.”

Loki swallowed. His stance grew more defensive, even as he tried to convince them he meant no harm. “It’s clear you’re planning to do something horrible,” Loki protested. “You don’t need to, I-”

“You do realize that if you don't move yourself we're gonna have to zap you, right?” Stark cut in. "We're not as strong as you, and we know you have weapons so we aren't gonna get close."

Loki grit his teeth and stayed where he was.

“Strange, seriously, he’s not gonna cooperate,” Stark sighed. “We probably have to just zap him.”

“Alright, fine,” Loki growled. “Just...give me a moment.” He knew better than to hope they weren’t about to make him suffer, but damn him if he was going to bring more of it upon himself. Escape was impossible, he knew that already. Loki had a wild thought of snatching up one of his knives and throwing it at the Captain, but the man’s finger was already on the button. Rogers would be faster. Besides which, in the end, he didn't want to jeopardize their established arrangement. He still wanted to stay here, despite it all. It was the easiest way to ensure he'd see Thor.

Loki took a deep breath and hesitantly stepped towards the chair. The magic running through it was unfamiliar and so he had no idea what it was meant to do. He took one last look at the other men in the room before he slowly lowered himself into the seat.

For a few moments, he was fine. He had almost allowed himself to relax when he heard a clunk come from behind him.

The embedded bits of metal were concealed restraints. They shot out, wrapping around his limbs and torso, while one singular band stretched across his neck.

Loki wouldn’t allow himself to panic yet, though he could feel his heart pounding behind his ribcage. He tested the strength of the bonds, but he soon realized that he would not be able to break himself free. They held him so he was near immobile. He lifted his eyes to look at the other men and waited.

“I’ll cut to the chase,” Strange said as he rose to stand in front of him. “Six knives and your father’s spear. Hand them over, and you can go.”

So he knew everything. Now he was trying to intimidate him, though the effect was somewhat lessened by how the man had paled. Denying he had them would be pointless, and yet Strange seemed to be waiting for a reply.

When Loki remained silent, he continued to talk. “You’ve seen this, right?” Strange asked, holding a tiny packet of something in front of him. “You kept glancing over when I was weaving spells around it.”

Clearly whatever it was was about to make Loki suffer.

“It’s a mixture of iron filings and salt. I trust you know what they can do? Along with my spell, I can use this to cut off your magic temporarily.”

Loki jerked in his bonds. “That would _kill me_!”

“If I left the spell on you for too long, yes,” Strange admitted, forcing himself to look Loki in the eye. “If it comes to it, I don’t intend to rob you of your magic for more than a few minutes, though it still won’t be very pleasant for you.”

Strange was a madman, and Loki cursed himself for only realizing that now. Loki had no idea what having his magic taken from him would _do_ , save resulting in his slow, painful death. He was a being _of_ magic. It would be like taking an organ. The thin bands dug into his skin as he pulled against them.

Strange grimaced for a moment. “I don’t want to have to do this, but I cannot best you in raw magical power. If you won’t hand the weapons over freely, I will be forced to disable your magic and take them by force.”

“You’ll kill me,” Loki growled. “I’ll die from your stupidity. You have no idea-”

“I can see the future,” Strange said to cut him off. “I’ve seen this. I actually bothered to look at every possible scenario, and you never just hand over the goddamn weapons. I’m doing it this way because I know it’ll be fast and ultimately less painful.” Strange paused to take in Loki’s expression and sighed. “I suppose the really merciful thing to do would be just to get it over with, but I want to give you a chance.”

When it was clear that Loki wouldn’t respond, Strange agitatedly rubbed at his face. “Look, I know Gungnir has sentimental value, but please. Just hand it over. I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

Loki took a deep breath, clenching his hands into fists to keep them from shaking. “If you’ve seen this happen already, Strange, then you know what my answer is.”

“Say it anyway.”

“ _No_.”

Loki saw a glimpse of dread in Strange’s eyes. At least the sorcerer wouldn’t be enjoying himself, but Loki was focused on the fate of his father’s spear.

He had snatched up Gungnir on his way to Odin’s vaults. It had been lying discarded in the wreckage of where his siblings had fought, and Loki couldn’t have left it there. Everything would burn, and he couldn’t allow Gungnir to be kindling.

He growled, “If you want the spear, you’ll have to take it from me.” In the end, he knew he couldn't actively resist. He wanted to stay here. They would take the spear, and that would be the end of it, but damn him if he'd make it easy.

Strange finally tore his eyes away to look at the other men. “Doctor Banner, you should leave.”

Banner was obviously relieved. “Are you sure?” he asked, but when Strange insisted he nearly ran out of the room. His eyes met Loki’s briefly, and then he was gone.

“Are we seriously doing this?” Stark asked, looking shaken himself. “You do realize this is pointless, right? Strange is going to get them off you anyway.”

Loki refused to acknowledge him. Stark wasn’t wrong, but even if the outcome would be the same no matter what he did, Loki couldn’t bring himself to hand over anything else. He vowed to himself that he would be resolute.

“Cap? You don’t have anything to say about this?”

“He’s made a decision, Tony,” Rogers said. “Strange gave him an out, and he didn’t take it. I really don’t think he’ll change his mind. We shouldn’t drag this out.”

“Alright.” Strange drew their attention back to himself. “I promise I’ll make it quick.” He put the packet down to take something from his pocket, unwrapping the plastic packaging. “Open your mouth. This,” he said, holding up a mouthguard, “will prevent you from breaking your teeth.”

Loki took a deep breath through his nose before he cracked his mouth open, allowing the man to put the mouthguard in. He let his eyes slip closed and did his best to steel himself.

When he felt the packet being pressed into his forehead, he was reminded again of the imminent pain that he was going to suffer by his own decision. A tiny, terrified sound escaped him. The pain hadn’t started and yet he was already sniveling. He had only a moment to hate himself before he felt his magic being torn out of him.

He screamed through the mouthguard and then bit down hard. _Be quiet, be quiet, be quiet_ , was the only thought running through his head.

It hurt, and yet Loki had been anticipating that he would feel Strange reaching into his space. He thought it would send him to new heights of agony, but instead, the next thing he felt was his magic snapping back to him like a physical blow. It burned back through the pathways and that was a pain in and of itself, albeit a lesser one.

He took a few deep breaths as he adjusted to the ache of his power returning, and then he cracked open his eyes. The first thing he saw was Strange holding Gungnir.

Loki pulled at his bonds, growling, but he still felt exhausted and shaky and soon gave up. He let his eyes fall closed again.

“I must admit,” Strange began, and Loki tensed. He realized his face was now wet with tears and the shame of it rolled over him. This hadn't been a noble sacrifice at all. He was spineless and trembling, so incredibly _weak_ , and they would mock him for it and they would be right.

“Your dedication to your father is admirable,” the man continued. “I know you don’t like or trust me, but I promise I will allow no harm to come to his spear.”

Loki spit the mouthguard out onto his lap, but couldn’t think of anything to say afterward.

“I will take these all to the Sanctum,” Strange said to the others. “They will be safe there. I will hand them all over to Thor when he arrives.”

There was a curious scraping sound, and Loki opened his eyes again to see what had happened.

“Did you just steal my table?” Stark asked.

“Borrowed. It was easier than the alternative.”

Strange turned his attention back to Loki. “I’m going to release you now. You’ve probably already noticed, but having your magic blocked has left you drained.” He circled around the back of the chair. “Don’t try to do anything strenuous.”

It only took a few muttered words for the chair to release him. Without the bonds supporting him, Loki sagged. He could already tell his limbs wouldn’t be able to hold him.

“Alright, up you get,” Strange said. He hooked Loki’s arm behind his neck, pulling the god to his feet. Loki almost considered pushing him away, but if he didn’t accept Strange’s help his only options were to stay in that blasted chair or tumble to the floor.

“I’ll take you to your room,” Strange told him. “Come on. I know you must be exhausted.”

He allowed Strange to drag him through a portal and deposit him on his bed. Loki tipped backward, hitting the mattress with a soft thump. From here, he could see the disorganized pile of shorts on his dresser. It seemed to Loki that this morning had been forever away.

“Friday didn’t get me a hairbrush,” he muttered, struggling to pull himself into a more comfortable position. It was frightening to be so fatigued and vulnerable around the sorcerer but damn the notion that he would let it show. He didn’t think Strange would hurt him again, anyway. All of that had been for a purpose.

“I’ll make sure you get one,” Strange said. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“You can _leave_.”

“Okay,” Strange said, opening the door. He hesitated as he walked through it. “I _am_ sorry.”

Loki closed his eyes and groaned. The door clicked shut not long after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again with the canon-typical violence from me. I'd really like to know what you'd all think of this, I hope that this conflict felt justified from both sides. The Avengers aren't going to be awful to Loki for no reason, and Loki isn't going to try and provoke them, but conflict can still be borne from that. Thank you for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we have a series of uncomfortable apologies. I promise this time that I mean it when I say no one gets hurt this chapter.
> 
> I'm going to put notes at the end, but basically, I wanted to say I have been tweaking the last chapter all week and so I hope what I meant for it to do came off better. You might want to look it over before continuing, but basically, I put in that:  
> 1\. Loki decided not to fight because despite it all he still wanted this arrangement to work.  
> 2\. Loki hates himself because despite vowing to be resolute he ends up crying.  
> 3\. They threatened to shock Loki because they didn't want to have to approach him when he was on edge and carrying knives.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you feel I addressed some of the issues that were brought up.

With every heartbeat, Loki's limbs throbbed. He didn't know how long it had been since he had Gungnir taken from him. The pathways that his magic flowed down being forcibly emptied seemed to have made some of them shrink or collapse, and shoving his power right back in had done even more damage. His entire body felt heavy. What was more, it repairing itself was making him feverish and sweaty. He had managed to struggle out of his jacket, but even that little amount of movement set an unpleasant tingling like pins and needles racing through his body.

He wondered what the Avengers were doing now. Given Friday's seeming omnipresence and distaste for him, she could have recorded the entire event. Loki could imagine that Barton out of all of them would like to see him scream and cry. What was more, they could show the world that they had him under their thumb. He hadn't begged, but that was a cold comfort. He should have just handed over the spear in the first place and damn his sentimentality. Clinging to it had been idiotic.

Strange had said his dedication to Odin was "admirable". What had he meant by that? Surely he couldn't see that pathetic display and find anything to admire in him. Perhaps he had admired the sight of Loki in pain, but that was an exceedingly cryptic way of putting it. If he wanted to insult or scare him, there were so many terrible options he could have chosen.

Slowly it dawned on him that Strange could have meant it. How many times had Loki himself thought that the Midgardians struggling against him was pointless and unbecoming? They had won in the end, yes, and Loki had thought that was what brought them the admiration of the masses, but perhaps their resistance itself had been part of it. Would they still be loved even if Loki had managed to slaughter them all? On Asgard warriors who were defeated in battle were honored, but only if their deaths had  _ meant _ something. If someone was killed by their own stupidity, on their head be it. Beyond that, Loki was Strange's enemy. Who would admire their enemy and their prisoner for not obeying?

It didn't matter, in the end. Strange had what he wanted and Loki had nothing. Remembering Gungnir grasped in the mortal's hand still made bile rise in his throat. It belonged in the hands of the royal family, not some lowly Earth sorcerer's. Loki barely knew the man. He didn't know what he'd do. Strange could decide to use one of Asgard's most powerful weapons against Thor, and Loki would be the one who supplied him with it. The Avengers seemed to completely trust the man, so perhaps one day, when Thor had his back turned, Strange could-

A knock at the door snapped Loki out of his downward spiral of thoughts. He struggled to sit up, grabbing the headboard for balance.

"What do you want?" Loki demanded. His voice sounded more strained than he'd like.

"Can I come in?" Bruce called back.

"No," Loki answered, fully expecting the door to open anyway.

"Oh. Okay."

He could hear Bruce shuffling around in the hallway.

"The box of all the things you requested is out here now. Um, how're you doing?"

"Fine."

"Okay. Well, dinner's gonna be soon. You're invited."

"Oh, joy."

"Uh-huh. I guess I'll leave now?"

Loki let out a long-suffering sigh. "No, come in. If you would, bring those things in with you."

"Okay?" Bruce said, and for the second time that day he backed into the room with a box in his arms. He set it down on the dresser, then turned fully to face the other man. Bruce's eyes flicked over him, taking in his condition.

"Appraising the handiwork of your friends?" Loki hissed.

"Strange said that spear could melt people," Bruce shot back. "Look, I'm sorry we had to take it, but you can't carry around a weapon like that."

Loki's lip curled. "I wonder how he knows that." He was thinking again of what use Strange could make of the spear.

"I think the implication was that you killed somebody with it."

The words hit Loki like a slap. "I-! I wasn't planning on killing anyone. I just wanted..." He trailed off, and when he started to speak again his voice was quieter. "I wanted to bury it."

"What?"

"I wanted to bury it, in Norway, where my father passed through the gates of Valhalla."

Bruce's eyes dropped to the floor. "Oh."

"And that's why I'm wondering how that man knew what the spear could do." Loki said pointedly. "Gungnir is extremely powerful, and now it is in the hands of a man whose motivations I do not know. Strange is-"

"Not going to do anything," Bruce cut in. "Look, I see where you're coming from, but nothing bad is going to happen." He sighed. "I know telling you Strange is a decent guy and I trust him will mean basically nothing to you, so I'll tell you this. Strange has had the time stone for like two years now, he can use it, and he hasn't done anything bad with it. I'm guessing that's way more powerful than your dad's spear."

Loki gaped at him. "Strange has the time stone?"

"Um. Yes?"

"I thought he was just a witch," Loki groaned, his back falling against the headboard. He let his head drop into his hands. "He has the time stone. I guess any struggle against him is ultimately pointless."

"Usually I wouldn't encourage that line of thought, but he's on my side, so..." Bruce trailed off and shrugged.

Loki lifted his head. His eyes had turned cold, and his mouth was pressed into a thin line.

"Seriously?" Bruce asked, trying to hide his frustration. "Okay, look, we need to talk about this. We were friendly on the Statesman-"

"But now we're here and I'm your prisoner," Loki finished for him.

Bruce took a moment to breathe deeply.

"Oh, am I going to see our large green friend?" Loki asked. "I must admit he'd be better company."

The other man let out a mirthless laugh. "No. No, I don't think you will. I'm not done talking."

"Do go on."

"Look, Loki. I don't hate you. That's like a huge step for me. I would even say I like you sometimes, which is amazing given you tried to conquer my planet once, but I seriously can't favor you over any of the people who helped  _ stop _ you or people like you."

"Well I can't say I'm surprised," Loki muttered.

"What do you want me to say? Do you even know?"

Loki bit the inside of his cheek. Bruce waited for a moment, then turned towards the door.

The god quickly decided he couldn't let it end like that. "I can't change the past, Bruce!" he yelled at the other man's retreating back. 

He stopped. "Would you want to?"

"I..." Loki had a moment to consider his words. "If I had known that Thanos could be defeated, if I’d known what I know now, I would’ve never attacked Earth. I would have gone so far as to travel here through the Tesseract, and then I would have ran." Bruce turned halfway back towards him. Loki ducked his head down and muttered, "If I had known Thor wouldn't try to kill me the next time he saw my face, I would've done a great many things differently."

"You thought Thor was gonna kill you?" Bruce gaped at him. "He loves you! He yelled at me for calling you crazy."

"Yes, well. We hadn't exactly left on the best of terms." He shifted, wincing at the tingles that the motion sent through him. "Besides which, Odin had told him about my parentage at that point."

"Wait, he didn't know about that until after...all that with the bridge?" Bruce took a few steps back towards him and settled on the edge of the bed. "He mentioned you were adopted, but that was all he said."

Loki needed a moment to let that sink in, but when it did he felt as if a burden he didn't know he'd been carrying had lightened. He already knew they weren’t aware of Jotunheim, but there were other things Thor might have revealed. He needed to be sure he understood. "Thor didn't tell you anything? Not that it was a secret, not why, nothing?"

"Uh, nope. none of that. He only mentioned you were adopted once, too. He called you his brother about a thousand times more."

Feeling almost giddy with relief, Loki sat up straighter. The pain couldn't slow him now that he had something to truly be happy about. He had been so certain Thor would have told them all  _ something _ that he didn't consider the possibility that he might not have. Odin had revealed his heritage and all the other sordid details to the citizens of Asgard once he fell, after all. As far as the Avengers knew, though, he was completely Aesir. He could preserve the lie for a while longer.

"Sorry if this is a bit of a personal question," Bruce began. He truly did look apologetic. "But uh...did no one tell you?"

"I had to discover it for myself," Loki said, bitterness edging back into his voice. "Why do you ask?"

"Wow. Um. It just seemed like that might be the case. I'm sorry, that must have been awful."

"You're not wrong."

Loki didn't like the expression on Banner's face. It looked entirely too pitying.

“Anyway, what’s going on with this dinner? You didn’t all gather to eat last night.”

“Actually we did. You were just asleep by then.”

“You eat past six?”

“Yes.”

“Terrible.” Loki folded his hands, looking to the side. “I don’t suppose this is another ploy to corner me and do who knows what.”

“If it is, they’re gonna get a visit from the other guy,” Bruce said it with a force Loki hadn’t expected. “And if it makes you feel better, I swear I’ll smash Strange too if he does anything with your stuff.”

Loki’s face was blank as he considered how to respond to that. Finally, he cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowed. “Do you care about me?”

“You saying it like that makes me not want to,” Bruce said, half joking. “But yes. I think I do. I’m not going to let anything else bad happen. Also, I want to apologize.” He rubbed at his temple. “I knew what Strange was going to do. I knew what was going to happen. I let it happen because we can’t let you wander around here with your very own disintegration laser, but...” He shrugged helplessly. “I still feel terrible. I’m sorry I left, too, I just couldn’t...”

“Well, it’s done now,” Loki sighed. “I suppose we’ve both done things we regret.”

“Are we...’cool’?”

Loki gave him a small, slightly genuine smile. “Yes, I believe we are.”

Buce shot him a grin and climbed to his feet. “Okay, you wanna start walking up? I’m guessing you’re really hungry. You’ve only had a donut for brunch.”

“I’ve been hungrier,” Loki told him. “Still, yes, I’ll accompany you.” His movements were careful and calculated, but the discomfort had been fading all this time and it was manageable now. It only took him slightly longer than usual to get up and walk towards his dresser. He looked at himself in the mirror and thought that yes, he definitely needed that hairbrush.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Loki said as he quickly ran the brush through to neaten his locks. He couldn’t help but feel glad that they hadn’t felt the need to take the circlet.

“Not really.”

“Good.”

With that done, Loki and Bruce set off. Loki soon realized the man was taking him in a different direction.

“Tony’s got a dining room,” Bruce explained when Loki sent him a quizzical glance. “It’s better than sitting on couches and having to hold your own plate. It’s where we usually eat.”

“Do you eat all your meals together?”

“Breakfast and lunch are more casual, but dinner? Yeah. We try to, at least.”

Loki raised an eyebrow. “And why am I invited? I assume you make the effort because you all like each other.”

“Well, that’s part of it, but it’s also so we all get to know new members and have the opportunity to talk.” Bruce gave him a brief smile. “It’s so we feel like a team.”

“That doesn’t explain why I’m going.”

“You’re going to be living here,” Bruce pointed out. “Everyone else might as well get to know you. Besides which you have to eat sometime, and someone has to escort you, so it just works out.”

“I suppose.”

Bruce was silent for only a moment before he blurted out, “I already asked everyone to try and be civil. I’d appreciate it if you would, too.”

Loki’s hand reached up to touch the back of his neck, his fingers running over the disk. “I’m not exactly  _ eager _ to argue with any of them right now.”

“No one is going to hurt you,” Bruce said firmly. “Not again. Not tonight.”

“I certainly hope not.”

Bruce sucked in a deep breath and didn’t reply. It was only a short while until they reached an archway. A small gathering of people was milling about the table, finding their seats.

“Hey, everyone,” Bruce called. He needn’t have bothered; the second the both of them were in view, all attention had snapped to them.

“Hi,” Stark said. “I guess the gang’s all here.”

Loki’s eyes scanned over the crowd until his eye was caught across the table by a redhead standing next to a very wide man. He realized that this was the first time he had seen Pepper Potts and Happy Hogan in person. Their eyes were fixed upon him. He inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment.

Stark slid in front of them. He tried to play it off by gesturing everyone to sit down. “So, you all know our new guest,” he said casually.

“Yup,” Sam said, popping the p.

“I’m delighted to see you all again,” Loki said dryly, with only the barest hint of a smirk.

Bruce shot him a look.

Loki’s smile widened. “What? I believe that was a very civil thing to say.”

“Oh boy. So it’s gonna be that kinda night,” Sam sighed.

“No it isn't. Loki, you’re sitting next to me, okay?” Bruce pointed at a seat at the end of the table.

Loki could appreciate that he’d be only half surrounded. The dark haired woman and the strange man with a gem in the center of his forehead whose names he  _ still _ hadn’t caught had taken seats across from where he’d sit. Loki noticed that that man was the only one without a plate. Stark and his entourage took the rest of that side of the table, the couple flanked by Rhodes and Happy. They seemed to have the foresight to put the regular human man at the exact opposite side of the table from Loki, but the distance didn’t stop him from squinting his eyes at the Asgardian prince in what approximated a glare. Strange took the seat next to Bruce, and the rest of their side seemed to be ordered from strong to weak, going from Rogers to Romanoff to Sam.

Loki inspected the seat he was given for any magical energy before sitting upon it. It was only then that he noticed the food that had been set out.

Before him was an assortment of dishes featuring cod, haddock, lamb, and a wide variety of other meats, all prepared in ways that were familiar to him. Loki hadn’t had normal food since Hela had knocked him out of the Bifrost, and he had spoken often of how he missed it. There was only one person who might have done this for him. He glanced at Bruce, and the man flashed him a small smile.

Loki needed a distraction. If he didn’t find one, he might just get emotional over food. He turned his attention back to Sam. “Is Sam your given name or your surname?” Loki called down the table to the man. “Beyond that, I have no idea what I should call you two.”

“First name!” the man shouted back. “Last name’s Wilson.”

“Is your father’s name Will, or is Wilson another...” he glanced briefly at Strange. “What did you call it? A family name.”

“Patronymic surnames have mostly fallen out of use,” Strange answered for him and turned to Wilson. “We were having this conversation earlier. He said some things about my ‘honorable relatives’.”

“I wasn’t going to say the same insult twice. I’m offended by your perception of my originality.”

“How about no insults?” Bruce said. “Could we do no insults?”

Loki took a moment to stare at him but then nodded. “You are right. But Strange?” He waited until he had the man’s full attention, and then jabbed a finger in his direction. “We are not ‘cool’.”

“I wouldn’t expect us to be,” Strange said, his eyes flicking downwards.

“Is that guilt, Strange?” Loki said, lifting his chin. “Why are you still here? You don’t live here.”

Bruce took a deep breath through his nose and began to pile his plate with food. Loki decided to follow suit; he was hungry, after all. It was a bit of a relief that he could serve himself from the platters placed in front of him. It meant nothing was poisoned.

“I was invited,” Strange said. “Besides which, I wanted to ask you if you would be more comfortable if Doctor Banner held on to the weapons we confiscated.”

Loki froze, his full attention pulled back to the man. “What?”

“I know you don’t want me to have them,” Strange said. “And your relationship with him this afternoon was...strained, but it looks like you worked it out. Would you prefer I turned them over to his care?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Loki said, and only then did his eyes flick to Bruce to see what he thought of the idea.

The man seemed taken aback, but when his eyes met Loki’s he quickly recovered. “I guess you don’t get to know what bedroom is mine for a while.”

Loki’s gaze snapped to Stark. “What did you do with the knife?”

“Still in the lab. Bruce, I’ll give it to you after dinner. Hold me to that.”

“I still don’t like that you have them,” Loki said, speaking only to Bruce, “but you know Asgard. You know her people. In general, I find you slightly less repulsive than your companions.”

“Uh, thanks?”

Loki grinned at him and took his first bite of the food. He was surprised to find it wasn’t merely imitation. It was divine as if it had come from the halls of Asgard themselves. It tasted of home.

“I was under the impression that Midgardian food was different from our own,” Loki said mostly to Bruce, brows furrowing.

“Does that mean it tastes authentic?” Stark ventured.

“I suppose?” Loki didn’t know quite what to think of his interest. Was he wrong in assuming this was Bruce’s doing?

“We didn’t know if modern Scandinavian food would taste anything like what you have on Asgard,” Bruce explained. “I told them several dishes I remembered you mentioning and Tony went from there. I kinda wanted to try them too.”

Loki wanted to reach out and pat the man on the shoulder, but he didn’t know how that would be received. There was a spy at the table, there was an obedience disk on the back of his neck, and as for Bruce himself, he had no idea if the man would appreciate it.

He elected instead to ask, “How do you like it?”

“It’s different,” Bruce said. “I mean, not all of it. I’ve had meatballs before, but not pickled fish.”

Loki nodded. He focused again on savoring his meal, and there was a lull in the conversation.

“Excuse me,” the man across the table said to them. “But you mentioned you wanted to know what we are called?”

“Yes, I did say that.”

“I am Vision,” he said, before gracefully lifting a hand to indicate the woman beside him. “And this is Wanda.”

“Where, exactly, did you come from?” Loki asked bluntly.

“Ah, well. You remember your staff?”

Loki cocked his head to the side. “The one Thanos gave me?” He couldn’t for the life of him, see where this was going, and it irked him.

“The very same. S.H.I.E.L.D. kept it after your defeat, but when S.H.I.E.L.D. collapsed it fell into the hands of HYDRA.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. collapsed?”

“Yes. Five years ago.”

Loki glanced briefly at Romanoff, wondering what exactly she was an agent of now, but then turned his attention back to Vision. “How?”

“Captain America did it!” Stark hollered, grinning.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. was compromised by HYDRA,” Rogers explained. “We had to bring it down.”

“That sounds like a fascinating story,” Loki said, and he meant it. “I keep being reminded that I’ve missed a great deal.”

“That was when Sam joined us, too,” Romanoff added. “If you’re wondering about origins.”

“Hm.” It was strange that Romanoff was volunteering information freely. Was she perhaps trying to ingratiate herself to him? He had no idea what would motivate that. He didn’t have any information she could be after and he was in no position of power for her to exploit.

“After HYDRA took the staff,” Wanda said, bringing the conversation back around to the original topic even while she glared at him, “They experimented on it. And me. I was given powers.” She summoned a tiny red ball of light into her hand.

“What is that?” Loki said, squinting at it. “It looks like the Aether.”

“I don’t know what that is,” she said as she dismissed it.

“The reality stone, in its natural state,” he explained, still staring at her hands. “A liquid.” There was not a hint of recognition in any of their eyes. “Thor didn’t tell any of you? Jane Foster found the reality stone, and it took her as a host. It almost killed her.”  
“Uh...” Bruce glanced around the table. “Did he mention any of that? I don’t think he mentioned any of that.”

“I don’t recall him saying any of that, no,” Tony confirmed.

“Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter now,” Loki sighed. “Wherever the Aether is, you know more than I do. Regardless of that- Vision? I believe you were about to tell me where you came from.”

“Ah, well, that also involves your staff,” he said, folding his hands neatly in front of himself. “Did you know it contained the mind stone?”

Loki blinked at him, and then his face split into an insincere grin. “You jest.”

“I do not.”

“You must. Why would Thanos hand me an infinity stone? His goal was to gather them all.”

“Perhaps because it could control people’s minds.”

“That’s idiotic,” Loki said. “True, it was a useful power, but there are a great deal of things much easier to obtain than the mind stone that can still have that effect. You’re lying to me.”

“He isn’t,” Bruce said, and the weight of what he was being told was finally sinking in. “That gem in Vision’s head? That’s the mind stone, and it came from the staff.”

Loki gaped. His eyes went from Bruce, to Vision, and then to his own hands. “I had two infinity stones,” he said quietly, and hearing it from his own voice is what finally made him fully realize the truth. For a moment, if he had used them  _ properly _ , he could have been one of the most powerful beings in the universe. He dropped his head, pressing his palms into his eyes to keep himself from screaming.

“Why would you tell him that?” Wanda demanded. Something made the hair on the back of Loki’s neck stand up.

“I’m not going to do anything,” he said quickly. There was something about this woman. She was powerful, he could feel it. It was more than likely why they sat her across from him.

“You will not,” she said, and there was an incredible amount of malice in her eyes.

Loki’s attention snapped back to Vision. “Did you die?” he asked, and just the added tension in Wanda’s frame could have confirmed it.

“Yes,” the man answered, despite how obvious it was. “I would not recommend it.”

Loki smiled widely. “No, I wouldn’t either.”

Wanda seemed to relax some, but her attention was still fixed on Loki. She must truly love the man next to her. It dawned on him that perhaps she had seen his death.

“Thanos made Thor watch as he killed me,” he said on a whim. “Did he do the same to you?”

“This is not appropriate dinnertime conversation,” Romanoff cut in, but there was a trace of humor in it.

“Ah. You are right, Agent Romanoff. Forgive me.”

“You can call me Natasha.”

Loki blinked, then leaned over the table to look at her more fully. “Can I, now?”

She shrugged with one shoulder, her fork pausing to hover over her food. “You’re already on first name terms with Bruce. You know most of the new guys by their first name. We’ve been calling you Loki since the beginning. Might as well have a little consistency.”

“You’re being  _ remarkably _ friendly lately,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“You’ve been remarkably non-murderous.”

“I have a  _ reason _ .”

“I don’t?”

Loki had led himself into this trap. Even if he didn’t outright say it, it would be clear he had no idea what she was trying to do. He hated the feeling of not knowing what was going on.

“You could ask,” she said.

“What?”

“We’re not fighting at the moment. You could ask me what I’m up to.”

That would be too much of a blow to his pride, and he couldn’t believe anything she said besides. He looked back down at his food.

Loki was quiet for the rest of the meal, taking time to watch the people around him. Most of the group watched him as well. Their glances were anything but subtle. Still, they chattered amongst themselves, and he took to listening.

He didn’t learn much.

It wasn’t long before dinner wrapped up. Loki had to admit to himself that it wasn’t as awful as he’d been expecting. Nobody lunged across the table with a knife in their hand, anyway, so that had to count as a victory. Besides which, the food had been immensely satisfying.

Loki allowed most of the others to rise before he did. He didn’t want to make anyone twitchy. He was just about to ask Bruce to take him back to his room when Strange spoke up again.

“Loki,” he said. The man was holding himself awkwardly, and there was definite guilt on his face. Loki couldn’t help but give him a contemptuous smile.

“Strange,” he said. If the doctor was going to try to apologize again, he wasn’t about to make it easy.

“I have something you might want,” he said. “I’ve been meaning to give it to you since you arrived, but it never seemed to be the right time.”

“Oh?” Loki’s eyebrow arched. “And what might that be?” Part of him was picturing a flaming bag of dog shit, but given how stricken Strange seemed it didn’t seem likely.

“This isn’t an apology,” Strange continued. “If I was keeping this from you just to give as an apology later, that would be...wrong. I know the timing is suspect, but...” With that, he opened a portal, and Mjolnir fell into his hand.

Loki stared. The last time he had seen the weapon, it had shattered into pieces, but here it was whole and held in the hand of the wizard. Strange thrust it into Loki’s hands, and to his surprise, he could lift it as well.

“It’s broken,” Strange continued. “I could tell something went wrong in Norway, and I found the pieces. I tried to put it back together, but...”

“But you’re an Earth wizard and thus unable to figure out the intricacies of Aesir magic,” Loki finished for him. The man soured but didn’t deny it.

“If I hit anything with this, it will shatter again,” Loki observed. “It’s hardly a weapon.”

“Yeah, which is why you can keep it.”

“You’re an idiot,” Loki said as he grinned and sent the hammer to where he stored things. “You could have kept this from me. You should have. You really don’t know how to extract compliance from a prisoner, do you?”

Strange seemed almost frozen, trying to think of a response.

“You’re terrible. Part of me wants to teach you how to be better jailers.” Then, because his full belly and good mood made him bold, he called, “Captain, that was disrespectful. Aren’t you going to punish me?”

Rogers looked like a deer that had been startled by a flash of bright light, and Loki couldn’t help but laugh. “Really, if you’re not going to enforce your rules, why bother having them?”

He wasn’t expecting Bruce to punch him in the arm. It hadn’t hurt, but it was a shock all the same.

“Stop baiting them, for god’s sake.”

Loki considered ignoring him, but in the end, Bruce was right. If he’d continued, he wouldn’t stop until they made him. On Asgard, that usually ended with him being flogged. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“You are right, of course. I apologize.” He schooled his features, the giddy recklessness draining from him. “I’d like to retire to my chambers if you’re willing to escort me there.”

Bruce still looked wary and somewhat disappointed, but he nodded all the same. Loki gave the room one last jaunty wave before he and Bruce walked out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a word of god because a few people brought this up: I'm not going to have any of the heroes taking or using Aesir tech, and put the bit where Strange couldn't fix the hammer to show that he couldn't actually figure it out. Also, he was trying to fix it to give to Thor if he ever showed up again, not use it for himself. Thor didn't have an email address, after all, and he couldn't just call him. Maybe he could have handed it over to the Avengers but they were going through a bit of a spat at that point and which faction do you give it to? Loki was the first available person who actually had a claim to it. (Since Strange died on Titan he was revived on Titan and didn't get to see Thor before he left.)
> 
> Meanwhile, it's only been a day, but that day is almost done! I wanted to establish the dynamic he had with these guys before Thor showed up. Thank you for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers recognize that they aren't good prison wardens.

Loki was still grinning to himself as he walked down the hallway, energized by his own vindictive glee. He had been so clearly, utterly, totally out of line as a captive and all they had done was gape at him. The Avengers would do nothing. They were impotent. He could scarcely believe that they just let him walk out the door. This whole situation was a farce. Not even the force of Bruce’s frustration could bring down his mood.

“I should have known,” he started to say, but before he could continue that thought Rogers charged out into the hall. His eyes locked onto the two and he walked swiftly towards them. Loki froze. Perhaps he actually  _ was _ going to pay for the things he said.

The man drew to a halt in front of them. “Banner,” he said with a nod. “Loki.”

“Rogers,” Loki said, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to feign nonchalance. “Am I to take it that you’ve rethought your stance on corporal punishment?”

“No.” Rogers drew himself up to his full height. Loki supposed he was trying to project the image of a towering authority. “You will be confined to your room tomorrow,” he proclaimed. “Meals will be brought to you.”

It took a second for Loki to crack, but then peals of derisive laughter echoed down the halls. “Really?” he asked once he had managed to get ahold of himself. “However shall I survive?” This, to him, might be even funnier than if they had just let him walk away. Rogers had to chase him down to deliver news of a punishment that was barely a punishment at all.

The captain remained stone-faced, lingering for a few moments longer than necessary before turning and heading back to the dining room. Loki was sorely tempted to yell a parting insult, but ultimately thought it was better not to test his luck.

“I should have  _ known _ ,” Loki said as soon as the door closed behind him. “I was worried, when I came, that they might be a bit too enthusiastic with punishing me, but I should have known. With how you reacted to the pillory, I should have known how  _ soft _ you’d all be. Confining me to my room?” He sneered. “Pathetic.”

Bruce didn’t answer him. He started walking down the hallway again towards Loki’s room. Loki caught up quickly, but even when he fell into step alongside the man he couldn’t quite manage to catch Bruce’s eye.

“Didn’t Stark say they got their ideas from other prisons? I shudder to think what those are like. Perhaps criminals spend most of their time in a cell, the horror.”

He waited for Bruce to respond, but the other man remained silent. Loki’s grin slid from his face.

“What?” he asked, his irritation growing. When Bruce still wouldn’t respond, he spat out a tirade of venom.  “Oh, I see. They’re on ‘your side’, aren’t they? You agree with them. Was it you that suggested that they shouldn’t hurt me?” He barked out a laugh. “You’re soft. You humans are so incredibly  _ weak _ . I see now that I shouldn’t have bothered to try and conquer Earth. You’re all so useless.”

Bruce wouldn’t even look at him.

“You’re barely a man,” Loki hissed. “How can you call yourself one when you can’t bring yourself to defend your own honor? When you can’t even bring yourself to use or even witness  _ real _ punishment? You feeble, fainthearted, gutless-”

Bruce pulled to a halt, sweeping his arm in front of him to indicate Loki’s door.

Loki stopped as well, right beside him. He looked down at the top of his head. “You’re not going to say anything? Really?” The other man kept his gaze locked forward. “Unbelievable. I honestly-”  
“Go to your room,” Bruce commanded him, still staring at the door. He kept his voice as controlled as possible, and for Loki it was maddening.

“Fine.  _ Fine _ ,” Loki spat. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d imagine you didn’t spend your nights in your own bed.” He thought, surely, that Bruce would respond to that, finally react, finally  _ engage him _ , but it was if the man hadn’t heard. Loki lingered in his open doorway for a moment, but Bruce’s gaze had slid onto the wall several inches to Loki’s left. Loki clenched his teeth and slammed the door.

Bruce stayed in the hallway for a moment more before he turned to head back to the dining room. He walked silently and slowly, his face blank until he reached the room again where he collapsed into a chair, dropping his head into his hands.

A few of his friends glanced at him, but they knew he wasn’t in the mood. He didn’t want to talk yet. He was still thinking about what happened, sorting through his feelings to try and come to some conclusion.

Tony was talking about putting a T.V. in Loki’s room. His reasoning was that he didn’t want the man to be too isolated and bored, so he needed access to some sort of stimulation. Bruce silently agreed with him. Tony ended up asking Friday to order the T.V., so he didn’t need to speak up and voice it. Tony went on to say he’d only allow Loki to watch things like HGTV. His reasoning was that there’d be nothing to rile him up, and Bruce didn’t object to that either. When Tony started griping about how Loki led them all to believe that maybe he wasn’t as much of a shithead, Bruce finally felt compelled to speak.

“He managed to not be like that for five months,” he said quietly.

“Did he say something to you?” Steve asked. His arms were still crossed, his posture commanding, but his eyes were soft.

“Yeah,” Bruce said, sighing and tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. “Basically, I’m not a real man because I don’t defend ‘my honor’ with violence. He started trying to bait  _ me _ .”

“That seems like a uniquely terrible idea,” Romanoff murmured.

Bruce rubbed his face. “Yeah. I didn’t respond to any of it, but that just made him more pissed off. I don’t understand it. It’s like he’s mad we  _ aren’t _ going to hurt him for the stuff he said tonight. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Eh, I dunno,” Tony pitched in. “If you’re not responding, you’re basically ignoring him. I used to...” he trailed off, and then put one hand over his eyes. “Oh. Oh, goddammit.”

“What is it?” Steve asked.

“Remember how I figured out where Loki was?” He peeked out from between his fingers. “It’s happening again.”

“I’m not...I’m not following,” Bruce admitted.

Tony took a deep breath. “I realized he was a diva, obsessed with getting as much attention as possible, _ just like me _ . It’s why he chose to take my tower instead of anywhere else.”

“Um...”

“Ignoring him was basically the worst possible thing you could have done,” he continued. “Or the best. Depends on your perspective.”  
Bruce opened his mouth again to speak, but Tony ended up cutting him off.

“Y’know, this is why I hate that guy so much. It’s like he’s like the worst version of every bad trait I have. His existence feels like a personal attack.”

“Okay, so...what are you saying?”

“You all know I have daddy issues, right?” Tony asked with a fake smile. He didn’t wait for them to respond. He knew they knew. “And how any attention is better than no attention? Well...” He grimaced. “I’m not a masochist, but...”

Natasha snorted, interrupting his train of thought.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not more of a masochist than anyone else here. I've seen your training regimen, Romanoff, you've got no room to laugh." He sighed, getting back to the topic. “I think Loki’s the same. He doesn’t like being hurt, sure, but it means someone cares enough to punish him.”

He pressed his lips together, then turned to Steve again. “You know, locking him in his room is kind of an excellent idea, and we just stumbled across it. He’ll actually  _ feel _ that.”

“So basically,” he replied, “We have to not rise to his bait.” He cracked a faint smile. “Maybe we actually can teach him to be polite after all.”

“So are we actually going to enforce that disrespect rule?” Bruce asked.

“I can’t,” Tony said. “I’d be a hypocrite. I mean, let’s be honest, I probably shouldn’t be left alone with the guy ever again. Bruce, would you punch me if I start baiting him?”

“Yeah.” Bruce sighed. “But before that, I need to say something. I know I’ve been looking after him because out of all of us we have the best relationship, but I’m kind of pissed at him right now. I mean, as far as I know, he doesn’t know about my dad, but the whole ‘real men are violent’ thing struck a chord. Can someone else do it, just for a couple days?”

“I suppose it’s convenient he likes you,” Romanoff said. “You avoid conflict. You’ll only give him the attention he wants when he’s not being awful.”

“Oh jeez, that sounds like I’m doing it on purpose to train him, or something.”

“It’s not necessarily unethical,” she said, shrugging. “People do it to children all the time. I’m sure it happens in prisons as well.” She took a second to look at her nails, then added, “I believe in you, by the way. And I think you’re right. He can be decent.” She looked up to meet his eyes. “It’s in our best interests to encourage that decency.”

“I mean, to be honest, he’s probably stressed because we took his stuff,” Bruce said. “Logically, I know that, but he knows and I know that he was being an asshole on purpose. He kind of encouraged me to make fun of you all and when I wouldn’t he started in with the personal attacks.” He bit his cheek for a second, then added, “You know, I’m really happy flogging isn’t an acceptable punishment here, but all this still...” He sighed. “I dunno.”

“Sorry to say this, Bruce, but if we don’t enforce rules I don’t think he’ll stop,” Natasha told him. “He’ll keep testing us. What we need is to be consistent and fair, which means we need to do better than we’ve done today.”

Bruce sighed. “Yeah, alright, but I’m going to hold everyone to that.”

“I hope you will,” she said with a soft smile. “You give a very useful perspective. What’s most important, though, is we get our treatment of him stable fast and set up firm boundaries, because honestly, I can’t blame him for being uncertain of what we’ll do. We haven’t exactly been model examples of prison wardens.”

“Viz!” Stark called out suddenly. “You got an algorithm for us?” In reply to the looks he was given, he said, “What? You said consistent and fair.”

“I’m glad to hear you have such faith in me,” the man said. “However, I am not immune to making errors. The best we can do is become checks for each other, and openly discuss and challenge the decisions we make. That is the most logical way to come to the best possible decision. For example, I’d rather you had talked to us about confiscating Loki’s weapons beforehand. Regardless of whether anything would have changed and the moral burden of knowing aside, we should have been informed.” His eyes turned to Strange briefly. “Beyond that, we should have discussions about how to uphold the rules in the future. I would even suggest inviting Loki to talk to us about these things periodically, provided he took it seriously.”

Stark sighed. “I really hope this all works out. He’s in my house now, I’m letting him stay, and I’d rather have everyone live through it.” He rubbed his temple. “I’d suggest bringing in someone from outside who’s actually some level of qualified, but we’re keeping this quiet for now, so...”

“When we finally tell people, it’s gonna be a nightmare and a half,” Bruce sighed. “I mean, the rest of the world still thinks he’s dead, don’t they?”

Natasha walked over to lower herself into the chair next to him, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “At least he’s going from ‘dead’ to ‘in custody’, not ‘dead’ to ‘the king of Asgard’.”

He smiled, covering her hand with his own. “Yeah. God, that was something. To be fair, though, back when I found out he was still around he was also a prisoner, and that wasn’t especially comforting.”

She blinked at him. “Whose prisoner?”

“Valkyrie. She caught him and had him chained up in her room by the time she brought us there. He tried to kill her, or something? I kind of wasn’t paying attention to what she was saying. I was a bit too focused on how Loki was staring at me and how he wanted to murder everyone.”

“How did you two become friends, again?”

Bruce sighed. He considered for a moment that he could deny they were, but ultimately it would be a lie and they’d all know anyway. “It started when he thanked me for helping save Asgard and I realized he had emotions beyond hate and anger.”

“Didn’t Asgard blow up?” Stark asked.

“‘Asgard is not a place, it’s a people’.” Bruce parroted. “I mean, technically it was also a place, but after the place stopped existing that kind of became their motto.”

“It’s a good motto,” Stark admitted. “I wonder if I could get it written down in their language, maybe put it up somewhere as a memorial. It’d look good carved into marble.”

“Maybe not marble,” Bruce said. “I only got a brief look at Asgard, but it was mostly gold and stone buildings. The exception was the bridge; that was actually a rainbow. I’m just guessing, but I think they’d prefer something that looked kind of similar.”

“Right, yeah. I should go of the Asgardian aesthetic instead of my own. I just wish I knew what that _ was _ .” He sighed. “I wish you were an artist, Bruce. You can say what it looked like, but I can’t visualize it. I mean, what did you call the palace before?”

“A big gold pipe organ?”

“Yeah, that. There are like a bunch of different ways to picture that. And  _ why _ was it like that? Did it have religious significance, or was it a useful shape somehow? Besides which, we can’t just coat everything in gold like Asgard did, so can we even make it look like the old Asgard in any significant way?”

Bruce nodded, but added, “As far as I know, most people who lived in the palace were killed. I’ve mentioned before, but the survivors were mostly civilians. I”m guessing they’d be more used to the stone buildings anyway.”

“Yeah, but now I have to worry about what type of stone...” Tony trailed off and sighed. “I guess I can’t do anything about it right now. What I  _ can _ do is remind you that you were going to remind me to get that knife.”

“Oh! Oh my god, I forgot.” Bruce rubbed his eyes. “What am I gonna do with a bedroom full of weapons?”

“That’s your problem now, buddy,” Stark said, clapping him on the shoulder as he passed. “Come on, let’s add one more to the pile.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to take a break next week, it's my birthday :3 Not sure how much time I'll have to write. Anyway, thank you for reading, and I hope you all have a good week too!
> 
> P.S. sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than usual, it just felt more natural to end it here.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At night, dark thoughts creep through the shadows and slip into your head.

Loki was fuming, pacing the width of his bedroom over and over. He had practically accused Bruce of not being a man, and he hadn’t done anything. Loki hadn’t actually said as much, just implied it, but that in itself was justification enough to call for a duel. Yet Bruce just stood there, and a few minutes later Loki had heard him walk away.

He had only said those things because he thought it’d force Bruce to respond. He hadn’t thought ahead to what would happen if the other man didn’t, because he didn’t realize it had even been a possibility. He didn’t understand  _ why _ Bruce hadn’t; if he didn’t deny what Loki accused him of, then he was basically admitting that the accusations had been right. That was the way the world worked, and yet the stupid man had just left without any attempt at retribution.

He had to be coming back. He  _ had _ to. Bruce couldn’t just leave it like that. For the sake of his honor, he had to challenge Loki’s words. Bruce’s face had been perfectly blank, but that could have been him attempting to control himself. He wouldn’t want to let the Hulk loose; after all, Bruce was the one with the grievance. Loki honestly didn’t know what would happen if Hulk cut into the middle of their argument.  _ That _ would have been strange.

He didn’t exactly expect Bruce to duel him. He was a prisoner. He didn’t exactly have the ability or the right to duel anyone. What he  _ did _ expect was to be punished properly for his trespasses. Bruce might very well have been setting up Loki’s punishment even as Loki was agonizing over his actions. It wouldn’t take long for the Avengers to construct a pillory, not with Stark’s resources available to them. Technically Bruce  _ could _ use the disk to punish him, but it wouldn’t be the poetic kind of justice Loki thought he could expect. No, Loki had challenged him with a pillory, so a pillory would be used. He wasn’t exactly sure how much time he had before then.

Loki’s jittery nerves gave way to a creeping dread and he groaned, dropping his head into his hands. He didn’t want to be whipped. It was impossible to estimate how many lashes he had earned himself, but it would be a high number. He had crossed so many lines, and he had  _ kept _ crossing them even when he was completely aware he had gone too far. With that, he had managed to prove that yes, they did need to hurt him if they wanted him to behave.

Loki didn’t understand why he did this to himself. In the end, though, it didn’t matter. He’d be able to take whatever they gave to him. They were weak anyway, and hesitant. Bruce wouldn’t even be able to hurt him with his own power; he only had the strength of a human. If he tried, Loki would laugh. Instead, one of his stronger friends would have to step in for him to put true weight behind the blows. It wouldn’t be Hulk. The Captain, perhaps? Stark in his armor could be formidable, as well.

It would probably be Rogers. If Stark wore his armor, Loki would just mock him endlessly for being too weak on his own, so it had to be Rogers. It would be  _ fine _ . Loki had fought him before, so he had a fair measure of the man’s strength. He was powerful, but not on the level of an Aesir. Loki just hoped he wouldn’t add more lashes to compensate. No matter what, though, they wouldn’t be able to break him.

Loki set about arranging himself for when they came to fetch him. He would be calm, he would be collected, and he would smile when they arrived. It shouldn’t be too long now. He sat on the edge of his bed, facing the door. To feign nonchalance, Loki pulled a deck of cards out to fiddle with. He could play a game of einn as he waited.

His breathing slowed as he shuffled and began to lay out the cards on the bed next to him. There were only so many winnable hands that could be dealt. That was the interesting part of the game; sometimes losing was inevitable no matter how well you played. Loki didn’t enjoy that, exactly, but it felt honest.

He was able to lose himself in the game for a while, shuffling and redealing as he won and lost again and again. He wasn’t counting how many games he played, but eventually, the game lost its ability to calm him.

He began to have a gnawing feeling that it had been too long. He found himself staring at the door, absentmindedly shuffling cards. This was wrong, and it was making him nervous again. Was that their goal? To make him think about what was going to happen as he waited? Loki’s teeth worried his lip as he thought, but in the end the feeling got the better of him. He put the cards away and stalked towards the door, pressing his ear to it as he strained to listen for any movement outside.

He heard nothing but silence.

Loki drummed his fingers on his leg and then turned swiftly back towards his bed. It had just occurred to him that Friday could be watching, reporting back his every move. He hadn’t thought of it before because he had solid walls all around and was wearing his familiar cloak of magic to hide from prying eyes, but that didn’t mean there were no  _ cameras _ . The Avengers could be looking at him now, laughing as he became more and more on edge.

He had changed in this room as well, and perhaps that was what he hated most of all.

Thinking back to earlier in the day, he remembered mentioning her to Bruce and later walking out into the hallway to speak to her. He couldn’t recall what was said exactly, but he had been led to believe she couldn’t see him in here. There was no way of telling how much of that had been deception. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, groaning.

“Friday?” he called and waited to see if she’d answer.

He got no response, so either she couldn’t hear him or was ignoring him. Loki bit one of his knuckles, thinking. When they read his rights, they hadn’t mentioned a right to  _ privacy _ . He could take that to mean they didn’t feel obligated to give him any. It would make sense for them to be wary that he could be up to something and thus monitor him constantly. The guards on Asgard had done so as well, keeping him in that transparent cage most of the time. That didn’t mean he had to like it.

They were probably watching him stew right now. He _ hated _ that. He cast his eyes to the ceiling, trying to figure where the best place to put a camera would be.

“Come on, then,” he growled, turning slowly so whoever was watching could see him and the fury in his eyes. “Come and get me, you sorry half-men.”

Loki waited for what had to be half an hour, pacing the room and glaring at every spot that could possibly hide a camera, but no one ever came for him. He chewed on his thumbnail in agitation. Could they really not see him? Were they really not going to punish him?

It occurred to him that they might have moved on with their night as normal, and that thought enraged him as nothing else had. He could take being disciplined like a common criminal, but the idea that they just  _ forgot _ about him made him unspeakably angry. They couldn’t just dismiss him as if he was inconsequential. He wouldn’t  _ let _ them. Loki found himself walking back and forth across the room again as his thoughts raced wildly through his head. They wouldn’t be able to ignore him so easily once he was through. He’d have their attention then.

Loki drew himself to a halt just before he punched a hole through the wall. He could still sense the wires buzzing just behind it, but he had paused just enough while finding them to realize that essentially he was planning on forcing the Avengers to beat him senseless. He was struck by how incredibly idiotic he was being. It was barely over a day and he was already actively sabotaging himself. He fell back against the wall and screwed his eyes shut. The mindlessness of his own actions was making him feel ill.

He had no real idea of what he was doing. Loki was so incredibly vulnerable here, but it was by his own choice. He had  _ submitted _ , for the good of everything he cared about that had not yet been destroyed. It had been his intent this very morning to keep being as docile as he could stomach and yet here he was, actively seeking to pick fights. Usually, he was so good at forcing himself to smile and play along, but something about the Avengers just made him want to snap.

It didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t go on like this. Their patience would wear thin eventually, and then it wasn’t just himself that he’d be screwing over. It’d be Thor, too, and Volstagg’s children, and all the rest besides.

“For Asgard,” he muttered.

It took a while before he felt compelled to push himself up from the wall again. He didn’t know what time it was, but if they hadn’t come for him by now then they weren’t going to. Rogers would stick to his word of doing nothing more or less than keeping Loki in this room for a day. Loki would accept it and try to not make things worse.

The pajamas Strange had left for him were now covered in a pile of shorts and t-shirts. Loki stared at it for a while, his eyes feeling dry and scratchy. He didn’t really feel like digging them out, he decided, and besides which if they _ did _ decide to come for him in the morning and drag him to his fate at least he would be in proper clothes.

Yawning, Loki crawled onto the bed, settling down and waiting for sleep to take him. He finally managed to drift off just as the first rays of dawn began to shine through his tiny windows.

_ He was rushing through the halls of Asgard, only sparing a single glance to the newly uncovered ceiling as he ran past the throne. He didn’t have even a moment to ponder it, only to scoop up Gungnir and keep sprinting towards Odin’s treasure room. Thor didn’t have much time. Hela had already managed to cut out his eye and despite Thor’s bravado that was a grave injury. Loki didn’t know how long his brother could hold out. _

_ The skull went into the fire and Loki grabbed everything he could get his hands on. He shouldn’t have touched the casket - his blue skin burned despite him being several paces away and even when he let go and swiftly turned back to his usual coloring it ached. The flame grew up, gaining the form of a man, and Loki fled. _

_ Past the halls he had walked through countless times, past the places he played as a child, past his father’s throne he ran. It was all gone now, just glimpses of memories as Loki fled the destruction of the only home he’d ever known. When he reached the ship he had left in the courtyard, tears were streaming down his face. He wiped them away roughly - he didn’t have time, he needed to see the controls - and started the ship up, zooming away as fire started to belch from the top of the castle and the columns fractured and crumbled. _

_ He shouldn’t have looked back. He didn’t want to, but he still found himself pulling the ship to a halt, wiping the tears from his eyes, and turning around to watch Asgard burn. Surtur swung his sword, sweeping away the clouds, and as he had promised he plunged it into the center of the planet. Loki’s breath hitched. It was gone, now. It was- _

_ There were two people on the edge of the Bifrost. He shouldn’t have been able to spot them from that far away, but it was as if his eyes picked them out and focused until they were all he could see. Odin and Frigga. They had missed the Statesman, somehow they had been left behind, and Loki was seized with panic. He needed to get to them. _

_ A bright light burst from the planet and expanded, tearing up the land as it went, but Loki was so close. He was so close. Close enough to see as fire bloomed from his parent’s eyes and mouths as the wave of energy engulfed them, and then close enough for it to crash into his ship. _

_ Loki burned. _

He woke up screaming. The smell of the blaze was still in his nostrils, and it took a second for him to realize that part was real. An alarm began to wail as he screamed again, struggling out of his smoking bed and onto the floor where he watched as his own hand burned a mark in the wood.

It was his magic. Realizing that was almost a relief; it meant he could stop it. His power fell back under his control almost instantly.

The alarm that Loki assumed was for fire suddenly shut off. He didn’t have time to worry about that though, because glancing back he saw his smoldering sheets sending up smoke to curl against the ceiling. He jumped to his feet, cursing, with the aim to beat out the fire before it got any worse.

It was a moment until he realized he wasn’t alone. He yelped, flinging himself away from the figure by the door, only a moment later realizing that it was Stark. Loki stared at him, open-mouthed, and then glanced back to the bed. Another rule broken, for surely lighting his own bed on fire counted as destroying it.

Stark looked just as surprised as Loki was. The door behind him was flung open, and Loki guessed he had rushed inside when he heard him causing a racket. Loki couldn’t begin to guess what the other man could be thinking. It had been years since Loki had lost control of his magic through a dream and the fact that he had been  _ caught _ doing so made the shame of it that much more potent.

Clearing his throat, Stark made a vague gesture at the sheets. “That...the fire looks like it’s smothering itself,” he said, and it sounded almost like a question.

Loki nodded.

“That happen often?” Stark wondered, still looking mystified.

“No. I...” Loki swallowed. He couldn’t meet the other man’s eye. “Sorry.”

Stark waved his comment away, looking slightly startled that Loki had apologized. “Don’t worry about it?”

Loki twisted his hands, squirming under Stark’s gaze.

Stark broke eye contact to circle around the bed, peeling back the sheets and assess the damage. Loki winced. An impression of his body was burned where he had laid, creating a hole right down through the top of the mattress.

He had a sudden thought and glanced down at himself to see that yes, his clothes had burnt as well. Through some blessed circumstance they were only charred, not utterly reduced to ash.

“Help me with this, would you?” Stark said, trying to drag the mattress off the bed himself. Loki rushed to assist. Stark didn’t  _ seem _ mad, but it was still in Loki’s best interests to cooperate. He could take the entire thing himself, but it seemed polite to let Stark think he was doing some of the work. They dragged the ruined bedding out into the hall together.

“You’ll have a new one by tonight,” Stark promised. He was still staring at the remains. “Besides that, I brought you a TV. Wanna help me set it up?”

“Not really,” Loki answered, but moved to help Stark anyway.

He ended up just helping to carry it inside. Stark was the one who dropped to his knees to fiddle with the wires, connecting the device to the wall in several places. Loki watched, trying to figure out what he was doing and how the machine worked, but Stark was finished quickly so he didn’t learn much. The other man brushed off his hands and rose to face him.

“So, you don’t have that many channels, but at least you have something to do,” Stark told him, handing him a flat rectangular device. “This is the remote. Here’s the on button, you switch the channels using these...”

Loki wanted to know why he wasn’t being yelled at. He wasn’t about to ask, but it did seem odd. It felt like he should be in such incredibly deep shit already that any nudge in the wrong direction might get Stark going. He didn’t want to start it.

“So, any questions?”

“No.”

“Okay,” Stark said, pressing the remote into Loki’s hand and backing towards the door. “Have fun, y’know...being by yourself for a day.” He turned around, but it seemed he just couldn’t resist adding, “I hope you take this time to think about what you’ve done!”

The door closed behind him and Loki let out a breath. He sank into a chair and decided to study the remote, wondering if the TV would be enough to stave off the memory of what his mind had conjured up last night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really need to thank Duc for their help with this chapter, and other chapters I've been working on. Thank you so much!
> 
> Einn means alone which is another word for solitary, aka I wanted to have Loki play solitaire but Duc pointed out it wasn't very Nordic.
> 
> I may be moving to a schedule of updating once every two weeks. I want to build my buffer up again.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being alone is so boring.

A man in a suit was walking down a road towards the camera, the music playing overtop the footage far too intense for the accompanying visual. “I’m Drew Scott, and I’ve been successfully buying and selling real estate for over ten years.”

Loki had been watching for too long.

An extremely similar looking man holding a hammer with a very long handle came on screen. “I’m Jonathan Scott, and I’ve been renovating homes as fast as Drew can sell them.” He swung the hammer, slamming it into a wall.

Loki’s eyes had started to sting, both from tiredness and from staring at the lighted box.

“Everyone wants to sell their house for top dollar so they can afford-”

Loki raised the remote, switching the TV off to bask in the blessed silence. He knew he’d turn it back on again eventually, but for now he’d reached his limit.

He didn’t know exactly what time it was, but he hadn’t been brought lunch yet. That meant he had more than half a day to suffer through, and then the night besides. It already felt like an eternity.

There were a few questions he had to ask when he got out. He was trying to keep a list straight in his head, but he didn’t have anything to write it down on. That was something to ask for in the future, but until then he’d have to memorize them.

He wanted to know what “insurance” meant on Midgard, for one. He’d seen endless commercials for it but it seemed to be something one could buy which he found to be extremely odd. His understanding of the word was something more akin to the disk on his neck that "ensured" he couldn’t cause anyone harm over threat of pain. He could imagine giving money to ensure something was done but the commercials seemed to imply that insurance gave out money and so he didn’t understand why one had to pay the company in the first place. Why not just keep what you had? There must have been more to the system, but Loki could only speculate.

It seemed there were a great deal of advertisements for medication as well, which was an entirely foreign concept to him. The idea that one would have to pay for cures to their ailments was an unpleasant one. Were there just so many humans that they could afford to let the sick die?

Then he would have to ask what Twitter was, as well as Facebook, as well as Instagram, as well as why there was a commercial that featured a family of blue bears hugging and stroking toilet paper that ended with the one he assumed was the mother bear realizing suddenly that it was ‘weird’.

He groaned, letting himself sprawl out on the hardwood floor. Part of him was tempted to just let himself drift off. He was so tired and Stark  _ still _ hadn’t come back yet with a new mattress. Then again, it might make sleeping at night that much harder. Loki didn’t want to lie awake in the dark for hours, waiting for the sun to rise again.

He forced himself to sit up because if he didn’t he really  _ was _ going to fall asleep. Loki searched desperately for something to do. He was already annoyed at himself for not thinking to carry any paper on him or tools to write with. He swept his hair out of his eyes, and as his fingers combed through he realized it was long enough to braid.

Loki sat himself in front of the mirror, sectioning off little pieces of hair experimentally before letting them fall back. It had been ages since he had braided anything. He had never been particularly inclined to spend much time styling his hair, but now that boredom had set in it seemed at least mildly entertaining.

He played with it for a while, trying to see if he remembered all the types of braids he had learned in his youth and how to weave them. There were so many different hairstyles available, but Loki eventually decided he quite liked how rope braids looked. His hair wasn’t long enough to look anything but silly if he tried to gather all of it at the back, but he could leave several smaller ones in.

After that was done he found himself staring into the mirror for lack of anything better to do. In the Asgardian jail, at least, there had been books to read. There had been people to watch. There had been guards to bother. There had been  _ something _ .

Loki switched the tv back on.  It was Drew and Jonathan again, but at least he could watch them demolish the inside of a house.

Lunch was brought to him, and though Rogers wouldn’t say much Loki did manage to learn it was one in the afternoon. Only six more hours until Loki could justify going to sleep, then.

It took another two hours until Stark finally got him that new mattress and Loki was nearly elated to have something to do again. Stark offered to help set up the bed but Loki turned him down with perhaps a bit more force than necessary. The other man did notice Loki’s burnt clothes in the bin, though, and took them away without comment.

Eventually, he was brought dinner, and after he was done scarfing that down he threw on the pajamas Strange had given him and crawled into bed. He wanted so badly to go to sleep so he could get this damned day over with. He forced himself to keep his eyes closed and lie still, trying to slow down his breathing.

The bed was so soft and comfortable. Stark knew how to pick high-quality materials, at least. He found his body loosening up and began to relax naturally.

_ His mother was stroking his hair. He hummed contentedly, shifting a little bit. His eyes began to flutter open, but his mother gently laid a hand over his face to shield them. _

_ “Loki,” she whispered to him. “My sweet boy. Don’t get up yet.” _

_ His eyes closed obediently even if he found the request odd. “I love you,” he murmured, not entirely sure what compelled him to say it. _

_ “I love you as well.” Her hand stilled, resting at the back of his head. “What do you remember?” _

_ Loki made a confused sound. What did he remember? There were many things. It must be important, though, if Frigga was asking. _

_ “Thor and the others left me,” he whined. “They left me here when they went off because I’m too young. It’s not fair. I’m almost as old as they are.” _

_ “Four hundred years younger isn’t ‘almost’,” she chided gently. _

_ Loki pouted but didn’t argue. _

_ “My son,” she began slowly, and the switch in the tone of her voice set him on edge. “There’s something I need to tell you.” _

_ He pressed his lips together, turning to look up at her. “Mother?” _

_ She looked scared. Loki’s heart stopped. He had no idea what could put that sort of expression on her face and he wanted nothing more than to comfort her. He reached up to cup her cheek. _

_ Loki didn’t recognize his own arm. _

_ For one blessed moment, he didn’t understand. He stared, wondering at how his arm was coated in blue skin and studying the unfamiliar ridges that ran down it. He glanced up again at his mother to see the worry etched into her face. _

_ “Loki,” she began. He sat up, pulling away to get a better look at himself, and suddenly he knew. He remembered what kind of monster had blue skin. _

_ He screamed, tearing himself away and clawing at his own flesh. In his desperation he didn’t look behind him and tripped, falling down from the platform his mother was seated on. Propped up on his elbows, he looked upwards and he realized that whatever building they were in was huge. His head whipped around to look behind him. _

_ There were thousands of Aesir gathered in this hall. Loki struggled to breathe. They were looking at him. They had all seen what he truly was. He was frozen, collapsed on the floor in front of them, exposed to be the monster in their midst. _

Loki woke up with a scream and then fought drag air back into his lungs. He struggled to orient himself. The crushing weight on his chest began to ease as it dawned on him that he was alone. He glanced down at his arms and found they were the correct shade of peach.

His door banged open and Loki instinctively shielded his eyes from the harsh light of the hall. “Are you on fire?” Stark gasped.

Loki squinted to try and see the man silhouetted in his doorway.

Stark closed the door behind him so only a sliver of light could get in and the pain in Loki’s head ebbed slightly.

“Nightmare?” Stark asked in a tone that bordered on gentle.

Loki didn’t bother responding.

“You okay?” Stark ventured.

“Fine,” Loki snapped. His pride could barely handle having Stark see him like this. Like hell he was going to show any more weakness than he already had.

It only occurred to him after Stark left that he had just turned down the opportunity for a conversation.

Loki ended up hiding himself in his blankets, aggressively ignoring all thoughts of the dream. Event,ually he was able to relax. Sunlight slowly crept into the room, bathing everything in a soft glow. He was dozing when Rogers knocked on the door and asked to come in.

He took a moment before he answered, “I can’t stop you.”

Rogers took that as permission. He stepped through and flicked the lights on. Loki moaned, dragging the blanket back over his head to block out the painful brightness.

“Morning,” the other man said. “Sleep well?”

“Could you turn off those blasted lights?”

Rogers sighed, but a second later they switched off again. He kept the door open but at least that was more tolerable.

“Sleep well?” he asked again.

Loki sighed, throwing the covers off of himself and sitting up fully. “Well enough.”

“Good to hear.” Rogers crossed his arms over his chest, taking a more authoritative stance. “Are you ready to behave today?”

Loki stared at him for a moment, then fought down a smirk.

The captain was not similarly amused. “Is that a ‘no’?”

“Whatever gave you that idea?” Loki slid off the bed, wandering towards his dresser to pick out his clothes for the day. He was already plotting out where the conversation could go in his head. He had squandered the opportunity to talk to Stark and he wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice. He didn’t want to push the captain too far, but he could entertain him for a while.

“You seemed to think the question was funny.”

“Ah. No. I thought the  _ implication _ was.”

Steve’s face didn’t change, so Loki took pity on him.

“Do you still think that locking me in this room had any effect?” Loki pulled out a sweater to appraise it. Usually, he didn’t wear quite so much black, but he was in a mood for it. He wasn’t exactly feeling very ostentatious.

He glanced back at Rogers for a second before he continued his thought. “If I have decided to cooperate, it’s not because of anything you’ve done.”

“Have you?”

Loki hummed. “Mostly. It’s in my own self-interest.” He shot Steve a nasty smile. “Though really, with locking me in my room being apparently the most terrible punishment you’re willing to give, maybe I shouldn’t bother.”

Rogers’s face twisted into a grimace. “You sure you wanna be speaking like that?”

“What are you going to do?” Loki was grinning now, because despite it all he still had power here. “I’ve seen the worst you’re capable of. It’s pathetic.”

“Watch it.”

Loki took a moment to study his face. Rogers was certainly annoyed, but he was nowhere near being legitimately angry.

“Oh dear,” he said, feeling confident that he could push on for a bit. “Am I upsetting you? Terribly sorry. I’m sure to a  _ human _ spending one day in a room would be unbearable.”

“Okay,” Rogers said, sighing. “You’re not willing to play nice yet. See you in another day.”

The sweater dropped from Loki’s fingers. He span around only to see Rogers already already had his hand on the door.

“Wait!” he yelled, hoping to the norns that Rogers would listen.

Mercifully the man stopped, but he only turned halfway to look back into the room.

Loki needed to say something quickly, but for the life of him, he didn’t know what. He could have sworn Rogers wasn’t pissed off enough to punish him yet. He had played this game many times, needling people right to the edge of where they’d hurt him without going over, and yet he had somehow misjudged. He hadn’t thought he had went too far but _ clearly _ he had. His stomach dropped when he realized that meant their patience with him was already wearing thin.

“I’m sorry,” he managed to get out even though it felt like his throat was closing. “I overstepped.”

Rogers had turned to stare at him now but his face was unreadable.

Loki hated himself. Hadn’t he decided not to aggravate his captors anymore? Yet here he was, doing it again at the first possible opportunity. He hadn’t even tried to stop himself. It wasn’t just about how much he wanted out of this room. The fate of Asgard relied on him being docile and here he was, fouling that up. Rogers had stopped for now, but he had no idea how long he’d stay there.

He needed to do something drastic to show his sincerity and deference. It had to be something he didn’t want to do. Though it pained him, though it felt like a vice was squeezing on his heart from the shame of doing so willingly, he sank to his knees. He couldn’t bring himself to meet eyes with Rogers.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a near whisper.

For a moment, the room was silent. Then Rogers made a sound like he was choking on his words. Loki looked up in surprise but froze when he saw the expression Rogers was wearing.

“Get  _ up _ ,” Rogers snapped, and Loki scrambled to his feet. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the other man’s face. Loki had no idea what he had done to make him angrier.

Rogers ran a hand over his face, and when it dropped the stormy expression had dropped with it. His eyes flicked over Loki and Loki held as still as possible.

“Will you behave?” Rogers asked again.

Loki nodded mutely.

“I’ll be back in five minutes. Get dressed.”

When the door closed behind Rogers Loki sagged, gripping the edge of the dresser to hold himself up. What the hell had that been?

He didn’t want to be caught disobeying orders, so he struggled to put his clothing on as quickly as possible. His hands were shaking. From Rogers’s reaction Loki knew he had fucked up, but he had no idea how or why. Was kneeling a grave insult on Midgard? It couldn’t be. Rogers said he would return, but return to do  _ what _ ?

Once he was clothed he rushed to stand in the middle of the room, head down and hands clasped behind his back. Surely this would be seen as respectful, but Loki was gripped with sudden doubt. He couldn’t be sure how Rogers would react to anything anymore.

He jumped at a knock on the door. “You dressed?” Rogers asked.

Loki swallowed, making sure his voice would come out loud and clear. “Yes.”

Rogers swung the door open. Loki stared at his shoes.

“Hey,” Rogers said, dropping some of his gruffness. “Come on. Breakfast.”

Loki’s confusion redoubled, but he fell into step behind the man. Apparently, if Rogers’s words were to be believed, kneeling had worked. That was what he expected in the first place, but the other man’s reaction still made absolutely no sense. Was this some kind of trick?

Rogers took him into the kitchen and Loki realized that it wasn’t. A few people were also there, helping themselves to some food that had been laid out. Romanoff inclined his head in greeting.

Loki licked his lips, waiting for Rogers to serve himself first before he moved to fill his own plate. He sat quietly, not meeting eyes with anyone else in the room.

For the most part, he was ignored. He was glad of it. It was clear that he had absolutely no idea what was going on here. The humans might look like him, but they were so  _ alien _ . He had been explicitly told the rules, and he still didn’t understand. He had taken the time to mock them instead of trying to figure the logic behind what they were saying. Now he had lost the opportunity. He had no idea if they’d entertain his questions now. He couldn’t be certain of anything here, and that thought was as terrifying as it was embarrassing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki's an unreliable narrator. Take that as you will.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a discussion of mental health in this chapter. Since the relationships are dysfunctional, it's going to be a dysfunctional conversation, as a forewarning. That probably makes it sound worse than it is but I want everyone to have a safe experience with reading <3

The compound wasn’t the best for jogging. Tony preferred parks. There were always other runners there, people taking leisurely strolls, dogs chasing after their owners and he was surrounded by the noise of other people. Here it was just silent and empty. The grounds were perfectly manicured but the trees allowed to grow were sparse and most had been cut back to the edge of the property. It was for security reasons, Tony was the one who decided it should be that way, but he still wished the world could be different and he could feel safe enough to put in some shrubbery.

Tony looked back up at his facility and grimaced. He didn’t have the luxury of just worrying about outside threats anymore. There was Loki. He was in there  _ right now _ and despite the fact that they had confiscated all his weapons he still had his natural strength. If Loki really wanted to he could snap someone’s neck before anyone could react. Tony wondered again if the disk really was enough. If Loki tried anything he’d be dropped almost instantly, but it wouldn’t make one of Tony’s friends or employees any less dead.

He stopped running, lacing his hands behind his head so he could breathe easier. He tried to tell himself Loki wouldn’t do that. He might be aggressive and moody, but he understood the consequences at least. He knew how to play ball. Loki had gone off the night before, but that was because they had hurt him and took his stuff. Tony could understand and even sympathize with that, at least a little. He still didn’t like the way Loki had talked to Bruce, though. Being pissed at Strange and the rest of them was pretty much expected, but Bruce was supposed to be Loki’s friend. He was  _ Tony’s _ friend.

Tony started walking back toward the building. He told himself had been nearly done anyway, and more than that he wanted to know what was going on with Loki. If Steve was going to let him out, he’d probably have done it by now. Tony might as well head for the kitchen and see if Loki was there.

He’d probably have to face the issue of Loki’s nightmares soon. That was not something he was looking forward to. Tony had hoped the night Loki set fire to a bed was a one-off thing and he could forget about it, but now it was absolutely clear what had happened.

Tony knew exactly what it felt like to wake up screaming. Loki had given him that.

He didn’t want to feel sympathy for the guy.

He  _ did _ , though. Tony had been there. He remembered the shocked look on Loki’s face that was soon chased out with open shame. He couldn’t forget that, no matter how much of a bastard Loki was.

They’d need to have a conversation soon. Today, probably, if Loki was out of his room.  _ That _ would be fun. He had a sneaking suspicion Loki wanted to talk about it even less than he did.

Tony finally reached the kitchen to see his friends chatting over breakfast. Loki was there, hunched over his plate in a corner. He looked miserable and Tony wondered if the effects of the nightmare lingered until now. That didn’t seem right, though; immediately after Loki had oriented himself he had been able to snap at Tony just fine. It wasn’t like Loki to show weakness, either.

Regardless of the reasons behind Loki’s mood, it probably wasn’t the best time for their chat. Tony would let him finish eating first. It wasn’t to put it off, he told himself as he shoveled some food onto his own plate. He was hungry anyway, and he expected that encounter to drag.

It was only a few minutes later that Bruce walked in. Loki’s head snapped up but Bruce didn’t acknowledge him, heading straight for the food. Loki’s eyes followed him, and when Bruce passed near enough he said his name softly. Bruce twitched but he still didn’t turn. Loki repeated it, slightly louder, but this time it was as if Bruce hadn’t heard. Loki wilted and his eyes dropped again to stare at his plate.

“Hey, Bruce!” Tony called when he saw his friend had finished serving himself. He smacked the spot on the couch next to him, grinning. Bruce’s lips twitched and he sat down next to him.

As they chatted, Tony kept glancing at Loki. He barely moved, only occasionally lifting the fork up to his mouth and chewing slowly. Part of Tony wanted to call out to him and say something snide, because yeah it was Loki’s own fault Bruce wasn’t talking to him, but he pushed down the urge. Loki was already miserable; there was no point kicking a guy when he was down.

It wasn’t long before people started to finish up and wander out of the room. Bruce excused himself as soon as he was done eating and Tony finished not soon after, but Loki was still poking at his food. There wasn’t much left, but Tony didn’t want to drag him away from it.

“You gonna finish up soon?”

Loki looked up, blinking, seeming surprised at being addressed. He glanced back down at his plate before meeting Tony’s eyes with a more neutral expression.

“Yes,” he said simply and picked up the pace.

Tony took his dish to the sink, came back, and dropped back onto the couch. Loki still wasn’t done, so Tony whipped out his phone to fiddle with while he waited. The news was still reporting on how the Avengers had defeated Thanos and brought everyone back. Reporters were clambering for a longer interview, more information, more  _ anything _ , but Tony had already given them a summary and now he needed a goddamn rest. Even in articles while talking about families reunited, though, they couldn’t resist quoting him. At the end of every story, there was always _ in an interview earlier this week, Tony Stark confirmed that the Avengers were responsible for the miraculous resurrection of half the population  _ or something to that effect. Part of Tony felt guilty for not telling them more, but he just couldn’t deal with recounting it all right now. Everything was fine, Thanos was dead, and he had told them what they needed to know. The rest could wait.

Loki got up to put his plate in the dishwasher, so Tony shut his phone off, swinging his legs back off the couch.

“We’re gonna talk,” he said as Loki was walking back. The man stiffened, eyeing him warily.

“Are we?” Loki asked, but didn’t offer up any more resistance than that.

“Yeah. Privately.”

Loki pressed his lips together, his eyes flicking to Steve for a moment. Steve looked to Tony.

“What’s going on?”

“Can’t tell ya, Cap,” Tony said with an apologetic smile. He was operating under the assumption that Loki didn’t want his nightmares to be common knowledge, and unless Loki explicitly said otherwise he wasn’t going to tell anyone.

Steve didn’t like that answer.

“Look, it’s important,” Tony told him. “I promise. I need to talk to him.”

“Really, Tony?”

“Yes, really.” Tony turned to Loki. He had shrunk back a little, his eyebrows drawing together in suspicion.

“It’s about the fire.”

Loki swallowed, his eyes flicking to Steve.

“Fire?”

“Yeah. No big deal. Some magic-tech interaction gone wrong. Very technical, very boring.”

Steve opened his mouth to argue some more, but Loki beat him to it.  
“Of course,” he said, walking a bit closer to Tony. “Ah, that is, if you will allow it, Captain.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, took one last look between them and sighed. “Fine. Don’t make me regret this.”

Loki gave him a jerky nod.

Tony rose, stretched, and then motioned for Loki to follow. Loki fell into step behind him obediently. He kept his head down, not speaking or asking questions like Tony thought he would. The longer they walked in silence, the more nervous Loki seemed to become. It was good for his sake that it wasn’t a terribly long walk towards Stark’s office.

“This is where I do boring paperwork,” he said, holding open the door. Loki entered cautiously, keeping his eyes on Tony. “I don’t come in here often, and I wish I did even less. Anyway.” He let the door fall shut, falling into one of the nearest chairs and waving for Loki to do the same. “We need to talk.”

Loki settled down slowly, still looking hunted. He seemed to be already preparing to bolt for the door if things went south.

“You’re not in trouble,” Stark said, hoping it’d calm him down some. “I just assumed you’d like to have this chat in private.”

Loki swallowed but fixed Tony with a steady gaze, lifting his chin in defiance. “And what, exactly, are we going to chat about?”

“Your nightmares.”

Tony had thought that was obvious, but Loki still grimaced at the word.

“I’m not going to do anything like ask you what they’re about,” Tony reassured him. He was going to continue, but Loki spoke over him in a rush.

“What do you want?”

“What?”

“What do you want?” he repeated. He was pale, but his voice was still firm. “I will not play games with you, Stark. Let’s drop all pretense, shall we?”

Tony took a second to figure out what he meant. “Do you think I’m blackmailing you?”

“Are you going to deny it?”

“I’m going to say you’re wrong.”

“Really?” Loki asked, his eyes narrowing. “Why then did you mention the fire and then insist on speaking to me alone? Don’t tell me that wasn’t meant to be a threat.”

This was going to be a longer conversation than Tony had anticipated. He fought back a sigh. “It wasn’t,” he said, already knowing that Loki wouldn’t believe him. “I just wanted you to know what I wanted to talk about.”  
“The fire,” Loki finished for him. He looked decidedly unimpressed. “And what, exactly, do you want to talk about if not payment for your silence?”

“What could you even pay me?” Tony asked before he thought better of it. It probably sounded like he was interested in the bribe now.

“I have money,” Loki said instantly. “Gold. It’s just as valuable to humans, yes?”

Tony stopped himself before he pointed out he was already rich. “I don’t want your money,” he said instead, holding up his hands. “I shouldn’t have asked. I really am not going to tell anyone. I have an actual reason to talk to you about it that doesn’t involve blackmail.”

“I don’t believe you, but go on.”

“So, how likely is it that you’re going to set yourself on fire again?” It wasn’t the main reason for the conversation, but he had to ask it eventually and right now it just seemed like the safer option.

Loki’s eyes shifted to stare at the wall. “Unlikely,” he finally forced out. “I’ve had my magic misbehave in my sleep before, but it hasn’t for hundreds of years. It happens, but it is uncommon. You will be long dead before it does again.”

“Good to know.” Tony decided not to voice his skepticism. He suspected the nightmares might make Loki’s magic act up more often, but he decided to address it if and when it happened. Everything in Loki’s room could be replaced, as long as he didn’t accidentally kill himself in the process. Though, Tony should probably make sure that wasn’t a possibility.

“You’re not going to die, are you?”

“What?”

Tony took a moment to figure out how to phrase his question. He wasn’t used to magic yet, and the words didn’t come to him as easily when talking about the specifics. “If your magic does act up again, could you hurt yourself?”

Loki bristled. Tony guessed that he had somehow offended his wizard sensibilities.

“I assure you, I’m much more of a threat to you than I am to myself,” Loki said in a near growl.

Tony gave him a bland look but still readied himself to activate his armor. He ended up not having to say anything though because a second later Loki seemed to come to a realization. That sudden look of clarity brought with it a tinge of fear in the other man’s eyes.

“I apologize, I...I mean, it’s true that I will not harm myself, but that was perhaps not the best way to phrase it.” Loki amended, swallowing.

It was a transparent defense, but Tony decided not to resort to punishing him yet. It was probably hypocritical - if Loki had threatened anyone else like that he wouldn’t just let it go, but he didn’t feel like laying into him for it. He thought that Loki was acting like a cornered animal, and Tony had dragged him here to poke at his sore spots. Loki had no reason to trust him and clearly thought the worst. Tony couldn’t find it in himself to fault him for lashing out on instinct, especially if he instantly regretted it. Tony wasn’t an idiot; he still knew Loki was dangerous, but making him even more on edge wasn’t going to be productive.

“You’ve got to cut that shit out,” he said instead, because he should at least acknowledge that he didn’t buy Loki’s excuse for a moment.

Loki swallowed, his tongue darting out for a moment to lick his lips. After a moment he gave Tony a stiff nod.

Tony took a deep breath. “Okay. There’s one more thing I wanted to talk to you about. You remember we mentioned healthcare?”

Loki nodded. “I do recall that, yes.” His voice was quieter now.

“Okay. Well, this is about your mental health. I wanted to make it explicitly clear that if you need to talk to someone, or need help with your nightmares, that you also have a right to treatment.”

Loki’s meek attitude left as quickly as it appeared. He was frozen and quiet, clearly furious with the suggestion but unwilling to snap at Stark again.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but therapy can help. There’s medicine, too, and-”

“You are  _ not _ going to drug me,” Loki said defiantly, but his eyes were still wide and frightened.

Tony gaped at him for a moment, then rushed to reply. “No,” he agreed. “We won’t. We won’t give you anything without your consent.”

The answer didn’t seem to calm Loki down any, but at least he wasn’t being aggressive. Tony got the feeling that he shouldn’t push him, but that feeling was familiar and often ignored.

“I get the feeling you don’t like the rest of the suggestion either.”

Loki’s jaw clenched. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering. “Despite appearances, I am not insane.”

“You don’t need to be insane to need therapy,” Tony answered. He considered, for a moment, telling Loki that he went himself, but it didn’t seem like the right time to reveal anything Loki might consider a vulnerability. It probably meant Loki was less likely to listen, but at least he wouldn’t get the opportunity to go on a rant about how Tony was weak and/or stupid, or whatever Asgard’s prejudices against the mentally ill happened to be. He couldn’t just leave that statement as it was, though. Even though he knew Loki would probably snap at him, he added, “There’s no shame in needing help.”

As Tony predicted, Loki’s lips pulled back, bearing his teeth as he snarled, “ _ I do not need help _ .”

“Everyone needs help,” Tony countered, even though he was fully aware that nothing productive would come of it.

“Maybe if I was  _ human _ , but I am not that  _ weak _ !” Loki was leaning forward now, gripping the sides of his chair.

“Oh my god,” Tony muttered. “Okay, you know what, I’m not going to have this argument with you. Mainly ‘cause Steve’s gonna be mad if he hears us yelling at each other.”

When Tony said Steve’s name Loki twitched. He forced himself to sit back properly, folding his hands in his lap to feign calmness. “I...”

“Apologize?” Tony supplied for him.

Loki winced.

At least he seemed to be controlling himself better than he had two days ago. Tony let it go.

“That’s basically everything,” Tony said. Hopefully, they could both relax now it was over with. “If you don’t have any questions-”

“I do, actually.”

Tony blinked. “Well, ask away.”

Loki swallowed, pressing his lips together for a moment. Tony wondered if he was steeling himself or just trying to think of the right words. With how pale and resigned Loki looked, he wasn’t expecting his question to be, “Can I have a pen?”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: mentions of blood, mentions of torture, mentions of self-harm. no bodily harm occurs.
> 
> Loki writes a letter.

Tony watched as Loki alternated between scribbling furiously with his pen and pausing to stare at what he had already written. Tony knew, vaguely, what was being put on the paper. When Tony asked what he wanted a pen for, Loki had paused for a moment before forcing out that he wanted to write an apology to Bruce. Tony was curious, though. He wanted to know  _ specifics _ .

Once Loki was done, Tony had agreed to deliver the letter. He knew full well that perhaps it wasn’t the best idea. Bruce had wanted to avoid Loki for a few days, but immediately after Loki had asked for Tony to let him write it he rushed to say that if Bruce didn’t want to hear from him yet Bruce could ignore it. Tony was gonna pass that message on. He knew he was still on shaky ground morally, but he was sure that whatever Loki was writing it couldn’t be  _ that _ bad. He had a tired, guilty look on his face the entire time he was writing it, and maybe it was because he was a good actor but to Tony, it looked like genuine regret.

It looked like Loki was reading over what he had written if his eyes flicking over the page was any indication. It could be that he was nearly finished, or it could be him considering if he should toss that draft in the shredder as well. All of the previous pages were already there except for the very first. That one had disappeared in a sudden burst of flames because apparently on Asgard that's how you got rid of sensitive documents.

Tony hoped he’d finish soon. He’d have to dump Loki on someone before he could head towards Bruce and he knew that Vision was in the sunroom tending to his plants. It would be really convenient to let him look after Loki for a while, and besides which he could bet Loki felt cooped up after a day by himself. It wasn’t outside, but hopefully he’d appreciate it anyway.

Loki cleared his throat, and Tony realized that he had already folded his letter neatly into three pieces.

“Done, then?”

“Yes.” Loki’s eyes lingered on the paper but flicked up to meet Tony’s for a brief moment. “I owe you an apology as well.”

Tony wasn’t exactly sure what Loki was going to apologize for, but the sentiment was what mattered. Loki’s attempts to be civil were obvious. Tony didn’t actually trust him, not by a long shot, but he wanted to make peace in his own house. “I’m willing to call us even. Blank slate from here on out. I’ll try not to pick fights with you if you don’t try to pick fights with me. I can’t say I’ll be great at that, but...” he shrugged. “I think you have the same problem, right?” Tony reached his hand across the desk to the other man. “Deal?”

Loki looked stunned by the offer, but still took Stark’s hand. “Deal.”

They shook, and Tony grinned at him. Loki withdrew his hand quickly and a wary suspicion crept back into his eyes. Tony knew with certainty that Loki was running over his words again, trying to look for a trap that wasn’t there. He suspected there wasn’t anything to do about it, either. Insisting there was no trick was the easiest way to convince a person that there was. The best thing he could do to ease Loki’s suspicions was just holding up his end of the bargain.

“So!” he began, clapping his hands together and drawing them both out of their staring match. “Give me the letter, I’ll get it to Bruce.”

Loki handed it over slowly, as if he was half expecting Tony to try and snatch it from him. Tony let him lay it in his hand before closing his fingers around the thick paper, only taking it fully when Loki let go. It was only then that Tony looked it over. He itched to open it. It wasn’t sealed, so a part of him couldn’t help but think that no one would be able to know.  _ He’d _ know, though, and he didn’t want to go behind Bruce’s back like that. He could save the snooping for later if Bruce allowed it.

Tony waved at Loki to follow him out, and luckily he found Vision in the sunroom still tending to the plants on the north wall. Vision always started there first, so Tony wouldn’t be weighing his friend down by leaving Loki in his care. It wasn’t as if Viz would complain about it, but Tony wasn’t going to take too much advantage of his accommodating nature.

As he walked towards Bruce’s room, Tony glanced back to see Loki sitting on a couch with his head down and Vision turning back to his plants.

“Friday, you’ll tell me what’s going on, right?”

“Yes, boss,” she answered instantly.

“Good bot. Where’s Bruce?”

“Last I saw, he was entering his room.”

“You’re the best.”

Last time Tony had been to Bruce’s room his friend had been trying to find a place for all of Loki’s weaponry. Bruce had waved him off, saying that it was crowded as is with all the knives everywhere and he didn’t need any help. Tony wondered if that was true or if he’d find Bruce surrounded by piles of weaponry. What he didn’t expect to find after he knocked and Bruce told him he could enter was no sign of the mess at all. Bruce was sitting at his desk in front of his computer like normal.

“Where’d they all go?”

It took Bruce a moment to understand what he meant. “Oh! The knives. I asked Scott to let me borrow some stuff to shrink them.” He opened a drawer in his desk, pulling out a clear shoebox-sized container. The knives shifted, tumbling over each other. It seemed the larger, heavier weapons had sunk to the bottom. “They’re in here.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah, I owe him one. Anyway, what’s up?” Bruce said, his eyes drifting back towards his screen. If Tony leaned a bit to the left, he could see that Bruce was looking at videos of dogs.

“Loki says hi.”

Bruce closed the tab, groaning. “What is it now? I told you I wanted to be left alone.”

“He wanted to apologize, actually.” Tony held out the letter. “This is it. You don’t have to read it. He actually told me to tell you that.”

“Well that’s something,” Bruce sighed. He still reached out for the letter. “Why are you delivering it?”

“He asked. I saw him write it; he seems genuinely sorry.”

“He didn’t mutter any spells over it, did he?” Bruce asked, but he was already opening it and scanning his eyes over the document.

“Nope. Why, are you feeling cursed?”

Bruce hummed but didn’t answer. He was focused now, barely hearing Tony while he read what Loki wrote to him. The longer he stared the more his face darkened until suddenly he shoved the paper into Tony’s hand and strode out into the hall. Tony rushed to follow him.

“Where is Loki?” Bruce asked, directing his question towards Friday.

“That bad, huh?” The words were flippant, but Tony felt a pit in his stomach. He wondered what the bastard had done now, and was acutely aware of the part he himself played in this.

Bruce waved his hand at the letter. “Just read it. I know you want to.” His eyes flicked from one end of the hallway to the other, before seeming to choose a direction at random. He was lucky to pick the one that lead to the sunroom.

“I’m sorry, I-” Tony began again.

“Just read it.”

Tony’s eyes fell to the paper obediently, scanning over the first couple of lines. It started out fine, but Tony skimmed it to try and find what had upset Bruce so much. He half-expected to find something horrible and learn that Loki’s show of remorse was just an act to harass Bruce some more.

 

_ Bruce, _

 

_ You do not want to speak to me, and you’re entirely within your rights to. I suppose you do not want to hear from me either, but I have done you a great wrong and I write this letter to apologize. If your eyes are on this now, I thank you for giving me the opportunity. _

 

It was just what Loki had said it would be, at least at first. Tony only had a moment to be puzzled, though, because just as he finished the first paragraph Bruce found his target.

“Loki!” Bruce said as soon as his eyes landed on the man.

Tony was half afraid Bruce was about to Hulk out and turn this into a real shitshow but he just stood there, staring. Loki swallowed, his eyes looking over them both and landing on the paper in Tony’s hand. Tony looked down at it as well, because if he wanted to understand what was happening here he’d have to finish.

 

_ I have offered you insult, and that crime must be paid for. Whatever the price is, I will gladly pay. I am not a free man and as such, I cannot answer any challenge to duel; therefore propriety demands that I offer you my blood as restitution. If you will accept, you may extract payment in whatever method you chose. _

 

“What the fuck?” Tony muttered under his breath. He didn’t want to accept what he had just read, but it was plainly obvious on the paper in front of him. He felt ill. His mind provided an image of Loki slicing himself open and bleeding into a measuring cup. Tony found himself hoping desperately that Loki was just bringing up whippings again, which is not something he ever thought he’d hope for, but his eyes kept falling onto “whatever method you choose”.

At the edge of his vision, Tony saw Loki shift. He was looking at Tony now, his eyes wide even if he was trying to keep the rest of his face blank.

When Tony met his gaze Loki swallowed. Loki glanced at Bruce once more, briefly, before he turned back with a resigned look on his face.“What did I do?”

Tony took a moment to try and figure out how to put into words just how  _ wrong _ the paragraph he just read had been. “Is this a normal thing to say? On Asgard?” he asked, waving the paper through the air.

“It is,” Bruce answered for him.

“I...” Loki trailed off. He looked like he was gathering himself. His face closed off as he tried to project confidence. “What about it do you find abnormal?”

“Hang on, I haven’t finished reading, but I’ve got some comments,” Stark said, looking back at the paper.

 

_ You are not a lesser man for not wanting my blood if you refuse it. I must ask that you forgive me for my boldness, but given the nature of our last argument, I feel I have the grounds to believe you will reject this offer. I am not retracting it, simply adding that there are other ways for me to answer my crime. I have gold. If the amount I have is not enough, I will work. _

_ If there is a Midgardian way of answering insult that I am not aware of, I beg you forgive me for my ignorance. I pray you tell me what I can give to restore our friendship. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Loki, son of Odin _

 

“What the hell?” Tony said, hopelessly looking to Bruce. He was so out of his depth; nightmares he knew how to deal with, but this? He didn’t even know what this  _ was _ .

A flash of something passed over Bruce’s face. Tony got the feeling Bruce felt as lost as he did, even if had more knowledge of how Asgardians thought.

Vision spoke up, reminding them all he was there. “May I ask what is going on?”

Instead of making the attempt to explain something they both didn’t fully understand, Bruce turned back to Loki. “Apologies don’t work like that here,” he began, his voice sounding slightly higher than usual.

Loki slumped slightly, looking resigned. “Oh.”

“Like, uh...” Bruce rubbed at his eyes for a second. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Okay. I do not want you to be hurt.”

Loki’s eyes fell back on the letter.

“Okay, yes, you addressed that!” Bruce said. “I know.”  His eyes found Tony’s, and Tony took that as his cue.

“No blood?” he said, slightly uncertain. “There will be no bleeding. That’s...not a thing, and it’s horrifying that it’d be a thing on Asgard, actually. Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorry,” Loki said, looking down at his hands that were folded in his lap. “I didn’t mean to offer you additional insult.”

“No!” Bruce cried. “No, Loki, look, I appreciate that you’re apologizing. I do. You didn’t know, but holy shit. I read that and got scared.”

Some life came back to Loki’s eyes, but his brows still drew together in confusion. “Scared?”

“Yeah! Like, your willingness to get hurt? Just please, don’t hurt yourself, alright?”

“Hurt myself?” Loki asked, drawing back. “Why would I...I don’t _ want _ to be hurt. That’s the point - I don’t want to, but I’ll accept it if you ask.”

Bruce dropped his head into his hands. He groaned, drawn out and loud as if he was in pain.

“Should I go?” Vision quietly asked Tony. Tony jumped; he had forgotten Viz was there. He didn’t know how to answer him. Vision seemed to see something though because he nodded and stayed where he was.

“What’s with this ‘payment’ anyway?” Tony asked, addressing Loki.

Loki blinked at him. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“It’s an Asgardian thing,” Bruce answered for him. “You duel or play a blood-price for things. Insults, slights, that sort of stuff. Tensions were high on the ship, people started fighting...Thor banned duels on the Statesman so a lot of money ended up changing hands.”

“And the flogging,” Loki added.

“And the flogging, yes,” Bruce sighed. “Thor wanted to keep order, that was a standard punishment on Asgard, I didn’t like it and Thor wasn’t too happy with it either but it was something the Asgardians understood and their planet had just been destroyed...” Bruce rubbed at his temples as if to stave off a headache. His tired gaze fell on Loki. “You’re not going to say anything?”

Loki shook his head.

“What?” Tony asked.

“I made it clear from the start I was uncomfortable with corporal punishment, Thor listened and agreed that he wanted to phase it out and eventually ban it, and Loki kept saying vague things and implying I was gay, I think.”

“I  _ never _ !” Loki cried, horrified.

“Uh-huh. And what was that about me not sleeping in my own room?”

“I didn’t say it outright!” Loki protested. “I said that if I hadn’t known you better, I might suspect something. I implied that your actions could be misinterpreted, which is wholly different.”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “You are exhausting.”

“Regardless, I owe you payment,” Loki charged on as if he hadn’t heard that. Suddenly his hand shone, cradling several gold coins, and he held them out to Bruce. “I have implied that your actions could be misconstrued more than once. I realize I need to stop and if I don’t I might risk losing your friendship permanently, but please accept this apology.”

“No.”

Loki took the words like a slap. Tony thought the coins would slip from his fingers.

“I mean,” Bruce rushed to continue, “this is Midgard. That is not how we do things. I accept your apology but will not accept your money. Okay?”

“But you must,” Loki said, still looking stunned. “I have offered you insult. Your honor-”

“I don’t give a shit about my honor,” Bruce said, cutting him off.

It took a second for Loki to let that sink in, but then on his face there was a hint of anger. “ _ I _ do!”

“Honor isn’t even a thing here. I don’t care.”

“What do you mean, honor isn’t ‘a thing’? How could it not be a thing? You have a  _ word _ for it.”

“Yeah, well you think honor involves blood and duels and using the slightest excuse to hurt people and I don’t want to have anything to do with it!”

Tony wasn’t even the one being yelled at and he still flinched. There was so much pent-up anger in Bruce’s voice. He had heard his friend growl at people but never seen him just snap like that. Bruce even seemed surprised at himself. He took a step back, taking several deep breaths before he spoke again.

“Sorry. Can we wait until Thor gets here to continue this conversation?”

“You sure you wanna have this conversation in Wakanda?” Tony asked, half-joking. “I know you have a lid on it, but...” he trailed off, punctuating his sentence with a whistle. “Hulking out might put a strain on our relationship.”

Loki seemed to consider not speaking for a moment, but lost the fight against the urge. “You’re going to Wakanda?” he asked, and Tony was relieved it was something that he could answer.

“Yeah. You are, too. Thor’s landing there, that’s where we’re gonna meet him.”

It was silent for a moment. “And when were you going to tell me this?” Loki said, attempting to fight down the scowl.

Tony shrugged. “When the plane came, maybe? Who knows.”

Loki bit the inside of his cheek, glaring at the floor. His eyes flicked back up to Bruce. “I thought you said T’challa was a decent person.”

“Wh-” Bruce said, brows furrowed as he tried to work out what Loki meant. “He is.”

“Do he and Hulk not get on?”

“I don’t think they would, no,” Tony snorted. “Hard to get to know a guy when he’s trying to kill you.” He glanced over at Bruce, intending to catch his eye and shoot him a grin, but Bruce wouldn’t look at him. The expression on his face looked suspiciously like apprehensive guilt. Loki’s face was blank for a second, and then realization hit him and his face clouded with anger.

Tony glanced between the two. “What’s going on?”

Loki still spoke calmly and slowly despite his obvious rage. It was an emotion Loki knew how to control. “When was the last time Hulk was out, Bruce?”

Bruce took too long, so Tony answered for him. “Not since he’s been back,” he answered. “What’s going on?”

“Not since he’s been back,” Loki repeated, dangerously quiet. His eyes bored into his friend. “A  _ year _ .”

“It’s not my fault, okay?” Bruce said, shifting to wrap his arms around himself. “He wouldn’t come out. It was  _ his _ decision, and I needed to fight, so I coped without him.”

“He wouldn’t fight for you,” Loki said, ducking his head down in a nod. “Ah. He wouldn’t do what you wanted, so you locked him away for a year.”

“That’s-” Bruce protested, then cut himself off. “You weren’t here, okay? And he locked  _ me _ up for two!”

“Okay!” Tony said. “Sorry to cut in, but what is going on?”

“The Hulk is intelligent,” Loki told him, not taking his eyes off Bruce. “He is not an alter ego, but a different person entirely.”

“Intelligent how?”

“He talks now,” Loki answered. “He can be reasoned with.”

Tony looked to Bruce.

“Oh don’t,” Bruce told him. “Don’t. You saw when I tried to call him out. He wouldn’t come. It’s not my fault he wants to hide away inside my body.”

“And how long has it been since you tried to call him out?” Loki asked.

From Bruce’s expression alone, Tony could tell it had been a long time. He had a lot of questions, but the one that fell out of his lips first was, “Why do you care?” As soon as he said it he realized that it sounded much more aggressive than he intended.

Loki stared at him, drawing in a deep breath before managing to answer, “Because he has a right to exist.” He swallowed, seeming to consider something for a moment, before lifting his chin defiantly. “ Because Hulk is my friend, too.”

Tony was going to say something else but beside him, Bruce groaned. He was doubled over, clutching his head, and Tony was flooded with adrenaline. Hulk in his house, okay, he had plans for that. He could handle it. Vision’s plants might suffer for it, but Tony would do his best to draw the action away from them. The only problem was that Tony was in his house and he didn’t have his goddamn armor.

He stumbled back, watching his friend morph and stretch until Hulk stood in his place, panting. Tony had a few moments before Friday got his armor to him and the smart thing to do would be to run and leave it to Vision, but Tony wasn’t known for doing what was in his best interests. 

Hulk lifted his great head, blinking until his eyes settled on Loki. Loki took a step back but in a moment he was grabbed and hoisted up in the air, trapped in an extremely enthusiastic hug. Tony relaxed all at once.

“Friend!” Hulk roared, grinning. Loki squirmed, getting his arms between them and attempting to push him away.

“Yes, hello,” Loki wheezed. “Wonderful to see you, but put me down please.”

Hulk ignored him, grasping him under the armpits to hold him out at arm’s length and look him over. “Loki is friend.”

“Okay, yes, I said it, you daft buffoon,” Loki said, managing to pry Hulk’s hands apart some and drop to the ground. “Happy?”

Hulk responded by pulling him into another bone-crushing hug. “Loki called Hulk friend!” The giant seemed almost smug.

Maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea, but Tony sauntered closer to the two. Bruce had always appreciated when he wasn’t scared of him, and Hulk was a different person but he would bet he’d like it too.

“Hey, buddy,” Tony called up. “Have you gotten bigger?”

Hulk dropped Loki, who fell to the ground with a grunt. Hulk’s expression shifted to something less open and then Tony’s eyes widened as that green hand darted out towards him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They've invaded Vision's lovely plant space to have all this drama.
> 
> I have some family stuff going on right now, so forgive me if I'm a bit unresponsive.
> 
> Also, I made a meme:
> 
> https://marzipandandy.tumblr.com/post/180697739647/the-latest-chapter-of-idavollr-in-a-nutshell


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing goes right.

Loki leaped to his feet before he could think about it, grabbing Hulk around the wrist with both of his arms and digging his heels into the ground. The rubber soles of his shoes slipped and squealed across the floor so that for a moment he thought he might not be able to stop, but then Hulk eased off and he heard a deep grunt coming from above him.

He tossed his hair out of his eyes to look up at the big green brute. Hulk’s brows were drawn together in confusion, his head cocked to the side like a gigantic puppy.

Loki took a moment before he gasped out, “Humans. are.  _ fragile _ .”

He didn’t let go of Hulk’s arm, but it felt safe enough to take a glance back at Stark. It seemed as if Vision had done his part to keep the human intact, yanking Stark behind himself. Stark, who now had a blue triangle glowing in the center of his chest.

“He wasn’t attacking you,” Loki said in a rush. “He’s been with Asgardians. You  _ look _ Aesir - I assure you he just didn’t consider your fragility.”

It wasn’t meant as an insult but Stark’s eyebrow quirked up at it anyway.

“Comparative fragility. I-”

A massive hand batted him off Hulk’s arm and he stumbled forward. It was a fight to find his balance again.

“Fair enough,” he heard Stark say.

Loki tried to maintain his dignity by not looking at him, instead focusing on smoothing out his rumpled shirt.

Hulk grunted. “Hulk wasn’t gonna...Hulk wasn’t trying to hurt anybody.” Loki could hear the sulk in his voice. He wasn’t expecting his heart to clench up at that, but there was nothing comforting he could think to say.

“Buddy,” Stark cut in. “Hey! It’s okay; I believe you.” He tentatively stepped closer, sliding to be shoulder to shoulder with Loki and sparing the Asgardian a brief glance. Loki wondered if he was expecting to be saved if Hulk was less than careful again.

“You’re a lot more wordy than you used to be!” Stark called up to him. “Wow, it’s been a while.”

Hulk snorted. “Last time Hulk saw Stark, Stark knocked out Hulk’s tooth.”

Loki blinked, and then was filled with creeping dread. He supposed it made sense that the human’s creations had gotten more powerful as he kept upgrading them, but that meant Stark had been strong enough to injure the Hulk three years ago and most likely had only kept improving from there.

If Stark saw the look Loki was giving him, he ignored it. “Not true!” he countered. “Technically we saw each other in Sokovia.”

Before he had even finished his sentence, Hulk was waving it away dismissively. “Hulk busy then. Hulk smashing.”

“You got me there.”

Hulk sniffed, rubbing at his nose for a second. “Hulk sorry. For Yo-hand-burg. Hulk deserved losing tooth.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t...I blame Wanda for that, mostly. I mean, not that I hold it against her, we got past it . . . Anyway.” Stark took another tentative step forward, reaching out his hand. “Friends?”

Hulk began to stretch his hand out as well, but Loki stepped between them.

“Sorry,” he said, catching Hulk’s eye. “Truly I am, but are you sure this is wise? Just a minute ago you almost killed him.”

“Hulk careful,” Hulk said, and the sulk was back.

“I’m not saying you wouldn’t be,” Loki reassured him. “I’m saying you have no frame of reference for just how delicate human beings are.”

When Hulk continued to frown at him, he sighed and squared his shoulders. “Remember when you tried to give Korg a friendly pat on the back and we were finding little bits of him everywhere for days? Humans are even more breakable than that.”

Hulk huffed at him but seemed to see reason, folding his arms over his chest instead. He dropped to sit on the floor, shaking the whole building as he did so. At least he wouldn’t end up accidentally killing someone.

Of course, Stark wouldn’t just let it rest. “Okay, wait, I have an idea. Hold still.”

Loki’s eye twitched. “If you want to die, be my guest.”

“No. And I’m not talking to you, get out of the way.”

It was a great deal harder for Loki to follow that order. It wasn’t that he cared if Stark died; in fact, it might be more convenient. He still wasn’t entirely convinced Stark wouldn’t end up blackmailing him. He certainly had no reason  _ not _ to do it. Loki had to admit to himself that a part of him wished Stark  _ would _ ; it’d at least give him some power over the situation. No, his trepidation wasn’t because he was concerned about Stark’s safety. The problem was that Hulk would be crushed if he killed him by accident.

Loki’s eyes met Vision’s, and he could see the man was apprehensive as well. It was strange - for a moment they seemed to understand each other, but then Loki remembered Vision must care much more for Stark. Regardless of his worry, Vision seemed to trust Stark enough to stand back and let him handle this. It was hard to tell if that was a good call.

Stark approached Hulk slowly, reaching out one hand. It brought to mind what Thor had done during their fight on Sakaar, right before Hulk grabbed him and slammed him into the ground.

This time it played out differently. Hulk kept perfectly still as Stark laid a hand on his forearm. The cautious expression on Stark’s face morphed into a grin once they were touching, and he gave Hulk's arm a few more friendly pats.

“I’d shake your hand, but I don’t think I’m strong enough.”

While those two idiots were smiling at each other, Loki realized there was yet another thing to be concerned about. He couldn’t pinpoint specifically what had tipped him off, but something in the room was wrong. There was a feeling, a slight fault in reality that he couldn’t place.

He kept his breathing even and his expression subtly annoyed. He didn’t want to tip his hand just yet, both because he didn’t want whatever it was to know he had noticed it and because Loki could just picture the mess Stark’s arm would become if Hulk moved suddenly.

The distortion was moving. Not very fast, but steadily. It made it easier to spot the origin, and when his eyes caught on the tiny speck on the floor he remembered something Stark had mentioned a few days ago.

Stark was in the process of wrapping his arms around Hulk’s bicep in an attempt at a hug when Loki yanked them apart. Loki ignored their shocked protests in favor of the speck.

“Hello, Scott.”

In the space of a heartbeat, a full grown man was standing before him. His mask was still on, but from his body language, he seemed almost embarrassed. Loki could feel Hulk’s muscles jump and tense, exactly as he expected they would. He swatted Hulk’s arm, hoping Hulk would take it as a sign to stay put.

“Hi, Loki,” Scott said, giving him an awkward wave. “You spotted me, huh? Asgardian eyesight?”

“Something like that,” Loki said flatly. “You do realize that sneaking up on Hulk is a terrible idea?”

“I wasn’t gonna pop out or anything! Cap wanted eyes.” He shifted to look at Stark. “Hulk’s blocking the cameras.”

Stark tapped his ear. “You talking to him?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Tell him everything’s fine. Hulk isn’t in the mood for smashing. Yeah?” His eyes swung back up to Hulk, who nodded vigorously. “See? Fine.”

Loki didn’t know if it did any good. He could just barely hear Scott having a one-sided argument inside his helmet.

Of course, Stark could never stay quiet for long. “Anyway, Hulk, you’ve probably gathered that this is Scott. Do you remember him?”

Hulk huffed and squinted at the man. “Rabbit’s friend?”

“Nope, that’s Quill. I can see where you made that mistake... I’ll catch you up later. Do you remember Viz?”

“New guy.”

“Well, one of them at least. Speaking of, Scott, tell Wanda not to come here, right? That’s probably a disaster waiting to happen.”

“No listen to him,” Hulk said. “Hulk don’t like her, but Hulk can hold back. Hulk no attack her. She hurt Hulk, but . . .” Hulk scratched his gigantic nose. “Hulk could forgive. Maybe.”

Loki barked out a laugh. “Thor’s rubbing off on you.”

Hulk’s face closed off. Mostly he looked annoyed, but there was an undercurrent of hurt that Loki hadn’t meant to cause. He wondered what might have triggered it.

“Anyway!” Stark said. “Tour?”

He began walking out the door before any of them had answered. Hulk was the first to lumber along behind, just barely able to squeeze past the archway by turning sideways and ducking. Loki hurried along after them.

“So, this is the ground level,” Stark said, gesturing around himself. “Mostly storage, Bruce lives down here too, and then there's the gym."

It might be a good idea to accept the change of topic for what it was. Loki didn’t want to interrogate his friend in the middle of a crowd. 

“Do you have a training ground big enough for Hulk?” Loki wondered instead.

“Yeah,” Hulk grunted. “Hulk like training.” He suddenly froze, struck by a realization. “Angry girl. What happened?”

Scott choked on a laugh. “Did he just call you an angry girl?”

“No, shut up. She’s fine, Hulk. Thor’s with her, apparently, and they should be here soon, though no one seems to know exactly when.”

“Kids?”

“They’re there too,” Loki said. He tried to think of a diplomatic way to phrase the rest of the sentence. “Hulk . . . we don’t exactly know their status right now, but I trust her enough to know that she would have kept them safe.”

Hulk’s jaw clenched, but he nodded. “Hulk knew, maybe, but...fuzzy.”

“You heard it through someone else’s ears.”

Hulk grunted again and grew silent. Loki didn’t like to see him gloomy. It meant he was that much more likely to smash something.

“Valkyrie?” Stark ventured. “Is that who you’re talking about?”

“Yes. That’s what Hulk calls her, though personally I find ‘sot’ to be more apt.”

Loki had been expecting Hulk to take a swing at him and dodged the hand with relative ease. He didn’t bother to fight down the self-satisfied grin. Hulk rolled his eyes but continued in the direction Stark was leading them, past the man himself who had stalled to watch their little squabble. Stark jogged to catch up then matched his stride, beginning to spew an endless stream of chatter at the giant.

“They seem to be getting along quite well,” Vision noted. He had relaxed a great deal.

“Are you surprised?”

“Not very much so. Stark and Banner were already good friends.”

“I think you misunderstand,” Loki sighed. For Banner’s and Hulk’s sake, he might as well explain. “Hulk may have been born from Banner, and they may share a body, but they’re different people. The reason, I think, that he was so violent and mindless in the beginning was because he was for all intents and purposes a child. I suspect he still is. And while positive or negative emotions from one or the other might overlap, Hulk’s become more sophisticated to the point where his relationships with others are fundamentally different from Banner’s.”

“If that’s so, then why is he friends with you?”

Loki’s lips quirked up into a smile.

Stark had stopped again, in front of a section of wall that looked slightly different from the walls around it. “We have a normal door, but . . .” he said with a conspiratorial wink. “Friday?”

“Of course, Boss,” she said, and the wall to the right began to move.

“This is a bit more convenient,” Stark said over the hum of the machine.

The barrier folded in on itself like a blind, drawing upwards, and the first things it revealed were Captain America’s boots. Loki tensed for a second then turned to Hulk.

“There’s someone beyond that door,” he said, as calmly as he could manage. “A friend of yours, I believe.”

Loki hoped that this was not actually an ambush.

“Steve!” Stark said as soon as the partition rose high enough that they could make eye contact. “So nice of you to join the party.”

Rogers was doing his best to mask his fear, his eyes locked on the Hulk as if he could stop a rampage from the sheer force of his glare alone. “What the hell is going on?”

“I’m giving Hulk the grand tour.” Stark raised a hand to indicate the room beyond, which was mostly white and high ceilinged giving it the appearance of a very large, sterile box.

Rogers looked at him in disbelief. “I leave you two alone for less than an hour, and everything goes to hell. How did this happen?”

Loki added unleashing the Hulk for a second time to the list of crimes he’d inevitably have to pay for.

“And I did not give you permission to break cover,” Rogers said, jabbing a finger in Scott’s direction. “Reconnaissance only. If you were spotted, you should have retreated.”

Loki wondered if he’d pay for that too.

“Oh come on, I think you’re being a little dramatic.” Stark rolled his eyes. He shot Hulk a huge smile, seemingly just to up the Captain’s blood pressure.

Hulk grunted, causing both of them to cut their bantering off. “Steve,” he said, rolling the name oddly as if it was his first time saying it.

It caught the man’s attention, and though his face was now more openly surprised the wariness still lingered.

Hulk dropped to fold his legs beneath himself in an attempt to become smaller. “Hulk not here to smash,” he said seriously. “Hulk wants. . .I want to be good.” He picked his words very carefully now, making an effort to get the grammar right. He had to speak very slowly, working out what to say first. “I want to be better.”

‘Steve’ looked absolutely floored.

“I know, right?” Stark said. “Our jolly green giant, all grown up. Really brings a tear to my eye.”

Ignoring Stark seemed to be something Rogers was well practiced in. He squared his shoulders, looking at Hulk with new resolve. It took him a few moments to find his words.

“That’s a good start.”

Hulk grinned.

“Well, if that’s out of the way . . .” Stark trailed off, brushing past Rogers.

Hulk rose again but seemed wary of approaching the human that was blocking his path. Rogers, however, was still fixated on him and watching to see what he’d do, and so as the seconds ticked on it became increasingly uncomfortable.

“Do I have to explain this?” Loki sighed. “He’s afraid he’ll step on you. Move.”

Roger’s lips parted in surprise and he sheepishly shuffled off to the side. Hulk gingerly stepped past him.

Stark seemed to be prattling on about the various equipment and how it was used, but besides the fact that all of it would undoubtedly not provide any challenge to Loki and thus would be useless to him, he was distracted by the way Rogers was focused on Hulk. Hulk was eying him back in turn. Loki had to wonder if anyone in the group was listening to Stark at all.

“Okay, Hulk, I’ve got a bit of a surprise for you,” Stark said, stepping in front of Rogers to break their staring match. “I started work on these after you, uh, left,” Stark said with a wry smile. “Originally I made these because the mechanical challenge and unfounded optimism, but I think you’ll like them.”

He waved towards some unfamiliar machines that had been pushed into the back corner. Loki didn’t recognize any of the equipment or what it was for beyond basic things like dumbbells, but there seemed to be one oversized version of every normal-sized machine populating the gym.

“Should all be strong enough to withstand regular use from you. If not, well, I’ll just have to try again.”

It took a moment to sink in, but then Hulk looked as happy as Loki’d ever seen him. “ _ Training, _ ” he said, almost reverently. “For me?”

“Yeah, buddy, for you. No one else is that big.”

For a moment Loki thought he’d have to save Stark’s miserable life yet again, but Hulk aborted his lunge in Stark’s direction to instead pick up the Asgardian. It felt like this time Hulk was attempting to squeeze the life out of him.

“Hulk too strong!” Hulk explained, reluctantly putting Loki down as gently as he was able. Loki wheezed, fighting to draw air back into his lungs. “Hulk wants hug Stark - thank you - but only Loki strong enough.”

Hulk looked back over to the equipment, an expression of pure joy on his face. Loki thought he was going to be hugged again, but instead, Hulk reached over to poke him in his side.

“Loki teach Hulk how to be softer. Hulk hug Stark.”

“I’m afraid that would take longer than you seem to think it would.”

Hulk huffed, falling back on his ass and propping his chin in his hand. A moment after, he adopted an expression that was almost sly.

“Loki can be soft already.”

“Excuse me? You can’t possibly mean to suggest what I think you’re suggesting, can you?”

“Loki do it for me.” He pushed Loki playfully, forcing him a few steps towards Stark. “Please?”

Stark seemed to find the whole thing hilarious. His face was scrunched up, fighting against a wave of laughter that was threatening to erupt. He threw his arms wide, clearly a challenge for Loki to do as Hulk asked. If it wasn’t for the genuine affection in Stark’s eyes when they skipped back over to Hulk, Loki might have refused.

He tried to do it properly. There was no point if he only gave a grudging performance and made the whole thing miserable. Stark, for his part, hugged back.

“I’m not used to being able to breathe during these.”

Loki felt the other man chuckle.

When they pulled apart, it was a surprise how much he regretted it.

Loki ignored the feeling, turning back to his friend. “Was that an adequate performance?”

Hulk gave him a toothy smile. “Addy-kit. You’re good friend.”

It was only after straightening from his mock bow that he noticed how much Rogers had tensed again and the open suspicion in his eyes.

“Friends?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So this chapter took a while. I mentioned there was family stuff going on in last chapter's notes, and I'm not sure how many of you look at my tumblr or the comments I answered but I said there that my grandpa passed away. Not only that, but immediately after I got home from America I fell ill -.-' With that behind me though I should be back up to weekly updates, except they might be on Friday instead of Saturday now. We'll see.
> 
> I'm not sure I'm entirely happy with this chapter, but I think part of that is because I've been staring at it too long :/ Thoughts?
> 
> Next chapter: Why are they friends, anyway?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I planned for this chapter to be out much earlier, whoops. I've decided I'm going to post every other Monday now. Anyway, thanks for reading!

“You really can’t see why this is a problem?”

Rogers was growling at Stark, but his eyes never left Loki. Loki’s hands tensed and he shifted into a more defensive stance, all the while knowing it was largely pointless. Rogers or one of his allies still had the disk controller. If he considered Loki an active threat, there was nothing Loki could do about it. The thought didn’t do anything to put him at ease.

“I get why you don’t like it, yeah. I still think you’re overreacting.”

Loki sensed Stark approaching behind him. When the man clapped a hand on his shoulder he nearly shrugged him off, but a moment later realized that meekly accepting might help him get through this intact.

“What’s wrong with Hulk having a friend?”

It sounded like Stark was advocating for him. Loki wondered if it was for Hulk’s sake, or just because he loved bothering Rogers. He was fairly certain it wasn’t actually helping him. Rogers looked between them, then started eyeing Stark as if he was a threat as well.

“Look, I agree that we’ve got to keep an eye on them, alright?” Stark said. “I’m not brainwashed, so stop looking at me like that. If Loki could do that without the stick, he’d have done it in New York. You’re talking to me.”

“Even if there’s no magic going on, you can’t tell me this isn’t suspicious,” Rogers said, although he did relax a bit. “Loki’s a notorious liar and manipulator and I’m sorry, Hulk, but if he’s gotten you to consider him as a friend that’s something to worry about.”

Loki heard Hulk huff from behind him. “Hulk  _ know _ Loki lies. Hulk not that dumb.”

A war played out on Steve’s face. He probably wanted to say something righteous and kind, like denying he thought Hulk was unintelligent in the first place. Loki was irritated just by imagining it. That kind of intentional transparent cluelessness was more of an insult than blunt honesty.

“Do you trust him?”

Loki hadn’t been expecting that.

He had never thought about it before, but now it had been asked he both desperately wanted to know and dreaded the answer. Friendship could be formed out of many things, but Hulk having faith in him was something deeper. Part of Loki wished he could go on pretending their relationship was basically superficial.

It was then that he noticed that instead of politely waiting for Hulk’s response Rogers was studying his reaction. Loki narrowed his eyes, staring right back at him.

“Depends,” Hulk answered finally.

Rogers turned away, and Loki felt he could relax some.

“On what?”

“Feelings,” he said, shrugging. “Forget that. Steve is afraid of Hulk being bad, but Hulk isn’t gonna anymore. Hulk no kill, Hulk no smash. Hulk won’t, not if Loki ask, not if Thor ask, not if Tony ask, not if Steve ask. No more.”

Loki fought down his disappointment. Wasn’t it better that Hulk had cut straight to the heart of the issue and circumvented the question entirely? That question would be better addressed in private if at all.

Stark’s hand slipped from Loki’s shoulder and he took a step closer, looking bewildered. “Not at all?”

Hulk grimaced. “Stark wants Hulk to smash for him. Thor wants Hulk to smash for him. Valkyrie, Banner. Everybody wants Hulk for smash. No more.” He crossed his massive arms over his chest looking off to the side. “Besides, Banner has big robot now. Banner smash for you.”

Rogers was the first to respond to that. “If that’s how you feel, then that’s alright. You don’t have to fight anymore.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Hulk peered at him intently. “Steve . . . friend?”

For the first time since this whole debacle started, Steve smiled. “Yeah. I guess we are.”

Hulk smiled in a way that was uncharacteristically non-threatening. It didn’t bode well for Loki.

“But seriously,” Stark cut in again. “No smashing? I thought that was your thing.”

“It’s only his ‘thing’ because he wasn’t given the opportunity to do anything else.”

The focus of the room shifted back to Loki, who was studying his nails intently.

“Besides which, he’s had two and a half years away from you. How do you know he doesn’t have other interests by now?”

It took Stark a moment to drop his glare and respond. “Okay, yeah, you have a point, but do you have to be such an asshole?”

“Do you?”

Stark shrugged. “Touche.”

“Hulk,” Loki said, turning his attention. Now he had finished reminding everyone that he knew Hulk much better than all of them combined, he needed to find a way to say his piece without sounding like a hypocrite. He wouldn’t ask Hulk to fight for him outright, but there was something important he needed to address.

“If the children need you, can I trust you to protect them?”

“Protecting is different.”

“Thank the norns,” Loki sighed. “That’s all I would ask.”

“Really? Hulk means it. No smashing for hurting.”

“I know you do - you can be ludicrously pigheaded.”

Hulk studied him, searching for something in his face. It made Loki distinctly uncomfortable. He shifted, waiting for Hulk to break his gaze or for someone else to deflate the tension, but it seemed to drag out forever.

“Look, not twenty minutes ago I had a falling out with Banner for this. I  _ know _ you heard. Do you want me to say it again?”

“What did you say?” Rogers asked, and now it was his turn again to regard Loki with the same intensity. Loki looked away, but he could still feel Rogers’s eyes on him. Then there was Stark, and Vision and Scott who had been watching this drama unfold all the while. It was those two that bothered him the most. They had barely said anything and yet they were still here, watching as if it was for their entertainment. But Rogers had asked him a question, and it would probably be best for his own sake if he answered it.

“That Hulk has a right to exist. Regardless of his usefulness.”

It was a small comfort to watch as Hulk brightened, even if he had heard it before.

Rogers was still fixated on him.

“What?”

“It’s just, I wouldn’t have thought you two would have all that much in common.”

Loki raised an eyebrow.

“I mean I can see you trying to use Hulk for your own gains, but you actually care about him, don’t you?”

“I’m sorry, do you think staring at me and asking leading questions will gain you anything?”

“I’m just wondering how that happened.”

“Five months on a ship together,” Loki said calmly. He wanted to get Rogers off this topic of conversation because it was drawing towards to a truth he wasn’t eager to reveal. Beyond that, he needed to convince Rogers there was no mystery left to probe. The lie he had chosen to tell was just on the tip of his tongue when Hulk decided to speak up.

“Space pirates.”

Rogers’s brows drew together. “Excuse me?”

“Loki and Hulk fought space pirates. Thor, Valkyrie too. ‘S why.”

“We ran into some knaves along the way,” Loki said dispassionately. “Though I didn’t realize our entire relationship was based on that.” This would be fine, as long as Hulk got the hint and dropped it. It was close enough to the truth that even the big lout should be able to keep up the pretense if questioned. Clearly Hulk already realized something was off judging by how confused he looked, but if he only played along it could be brushed off as an emotional response to the origins of their friendship being called into question.

“Why are you lying?”

For a moment the world stopped. Everything was drawn into sharp focus before Loki thought to blink it away and tilt his head in feigned confusion.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Lying.”

Loki huffed out a laugh, flashing him a genial smile. “I’m afraid I’m just as puzzled as before. I -”

“Loki,” Rogers said in warning.

His eyes went wide. He felt it, but it was too late. Rogers had seen. He tried to think of a new way to control the situation but drew a blank. Hulk hadn’t trusted him. Of course. He should have expected this - it was Banner all over again. He didn’t know why he’d thought anything would be different.

“What’s he lying about, Hulk?”

Hulk waited a moment, then looked back to Loki. It didn’t matter. Whatever regret he was feeling, it was too late now. If Rogers really wanted answers he might try to beat them out of Loki.

“Not ‘some’ pirates,” Hulk began slowly. “Lots. Lots and lots, and fighting.”

Rogers tilted his head to the side. He opened his mouth several times before finally speaking. “Are there normally that many pirates in space?”

“Hulk don’t know! Hulk only go to space once!”

“Huh.”

“Hulk don’t know why he lie either.”

Loki almost thought he could relax when Rodgers got a look on his face.

“What were they after?”

“Gold,” Hulk said matter-of-factly. “Asgard had lots.”

Loki almost flinched. The Avengers probably knew that anyway, but Loki had little faith in anyone when it came to greed.

“And I assume they didn’t get any.”

Hulk grinned. “Nah.”

The other man thought for a moment. “If it was fruitless, though, why would they keep attacking?”

The smile dropped. Hulk was finally silent.

A light went on in Rogers’s eyes. “Thor said a lot of warriors died against Hela, didn’t he? Bruce mentioned civilians.”

Hulk nodded slowly.

“Hulk, how many people were there to protect the ship, exactly?”

Loki’s hands were balled into fists that he couldn’t uncurl. Hulk must see why answering that was a bad idea, surely.

“Ten,” Hulk answered. “Hulk, Thor, Valkyrie, Heimdall, Loki, Korg, Miek, Biff, Tasba, Roscoe.”

Loki was caught in between rage and dread. Ten originally, but Asgard had lost Hulk, Loki, Heimdall, and Roscoe. There were only six warriors left to defend Asgard if they were actually alive and Loki hadn’t just missed witnessing their deaths, and what was more the Avengers hadn’t known. That meant Thor hadn't told them. Now Thor was coming to them, trusting them, with hundreds of tired cattle herders and chicken keepers and their gold. Would it not be a simple matter to separate them from it?

“Damn you,” Loki spat at Hulk. “You idiot.”

“What Hulk do?”

Loki didn’t bother to answer. He had fixated on Rogers again. “Few remain, but they are strong in their own right. Do not underestimate their strength.”

“What exactly are you afraid of?”

The smell of death. His people lying at his feet, beaten again, only this time there would be no survivors. There were so few of them already - the Aesir were fast approaching being a dead race, and it wouldn’t take much to hurry them along. Would it not be more practical for Earth to ally with Thor’s enemies, as they were greater in number and at their full strength? Cull off the weak to appease the strong and win their favor. They would just have to strike the killing blow to a dying beast of a nation.

“Thor’s my  _ friend _ . Whatever it is you’re thinking-,”

Rogers reached out a hand, and Loki had taken a step back before he realized it. A show of weakness. Pathetic.

“The remaining warriors of Asgard are those that have survived. They are mighty.”

“Yeah,” Hulk chimed in, confused but trying to back Loki up. “Loki strong too. If not for him, everyone die. He did-,”

“Will you shut up?!” Loki screeched. “Shut. Up. You don’t understand what’s going on.”

It took a moment for Hulk’s hurt shock to morph into anger. “Fine!” He said, turning as if to leave. “Hulk dumb. Hulk go, Loki talk to smart people!”

As he lumbered away, Stark turned to Loki with a scowl.

“You’re a really shitty friend, you know?”

Hulk span around as if it had been addressed at him, and it took him a split second to realize that wasn’t the case. Stark took the opportunity to call out to him.

“Hey, Hulk! Wanna know what he’s freaking out about?”  
  
“Yeah?”

“He thinks that now we know Asgard isn’t well defended we’re going to attack Thor.”

“If we’re stating things plainly, then let me be clear,” Loki spoke with a calmness he did not feel. “If one more Asgardian dies, I will wreak bloody revenge on those responsible.”

Rogers looked dismayed. “Thor’s my friend,” he repeated.

“At least it’s not an explicit death threat,” Stark sighed.

For a moment Hulk was conflicted. After a moment of thinking, he walked back over. He crouched next to Loki and then, as gently as he was able, whacked Loki in the arm.

“Avengers are friends.” He huffed. “Loki being dumb. Not gonna hurt, gonna help.”

Loki bared his teeth. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Smash them if they don’t.”

A part of him wanted to crumble and give in to the urge to trust Hulk, to  _ hope _ , but the memories rose again and he couldn’t. He couldn’t risk it, no matter how small his resistance would realistically be. He couldn’t drop his guard.

“You won’t,” Hulk said to the others, in a way that invited no argument.

“Of course not!” Rogers answered.

“I’ll swear on my mother’s grave if you want,” Stark promised.

“Your mother’s - are you serious? You’d swear on something so important?”

Stark took a moment to respond. “Well, yeah. I would. I’m not going to go back on this - Thor’s been through enough. And, uh, I guess I’ll state it outright. I swear on my mother’s grave that I will not attack Asgard.”

The tension and the fear seeped out of Loki, leaving him hollow. He pressed his palms into his eyes, taking a moment to digest it.

Hulk leaned a bit closer, speaking in a near whisper. “Loki?”

“I’m tired,” he sighed.

“Sleep?”

A wry smile crept onto his face. “Not that kind of tired.”

Hulk huffed. “Still mad at you.”

“Of course you are.”

“What kind of tired?”

Loki peeked through his fingers to appraise the other men again.

“Tired of thinking, I suppose.”

Hulk laid a hand on his back, and they stayed like that for a moment.

“Hey,” Stark said and waited for Loki to look up. “If you want some quiet, some time away from people, I could take you to the library.”

It felt like Loki should be questioning his motivations, but he didn’t have the energy. Right now it sounded so nice. He nodded.

Stark gestured for him to follow and Loki trailed at his heels, feeling like an obedient dog.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted this a bit early because I'm going on a trip tomorrow. Expect the following chapter on the 4th of next month!
> 
> There is mention of real-world religion in this chapter since the MCU is set in what is essentially an offshoot of the real world.

“Are you ready to go?”

Loki had barely registered that Stark had walked up to him. He would have been content to continue ignoring him, but Stark just had to interrupt his reading.

“Go where?” he replied, his eyes still flicking over the page in front of him. He hoped that wherever it was he could bring his reading along. Since Stark had disallowed him access to books on science and other ‘sensitive’ materials, he decided to become familiar with all of human history. If this was to be Asgard’s new home, it was valuable information.

He had been trying to read in order, but there was no one official history of Earth. Instead he had found and started with a book speculating on what had happened in the times before written language, and after that it became incredibly complicated. The sheer number of human settlements that had once existed was intimidating, and the problem was compounded by the planet’s sheer size. Several major civilizations could exist at once and barely have contact with one another. Still, he had persevered, and though he loathed having to read the simplified versions he had quickly come to realize they were necessary if he wanted to finish sometime this century.

It was a pleasant surprise every time he came across the name of a nation he recognized. It acted as an anchor, grounding whatever he had just been reading to what he already knew. He just reached the first mention of American colonization, and though he hadn’t expected America to be quite so young it just added to his enthusiasm to devour all he could find. It was slightly complicated when the Protestant Reformation was repeatedly referenced as what had caused many to flee to the ‘New World’, but that just meant Loki had to go search for a book that would tell him what the Protestant Reformation was.

“Wakanda.”

Loki looked up sharply. “What?”

“We go to Wakanda in a couple hours.” Stark didn’t bother to hide his smirk.

Loki glanced around the library. He'd been reading for hours, he realized, and not just here. He had smuggled books into his room to read at night, and he remembered absentmindedly eating as he flipped through the pages of a different text. He had no idea how long he'd been caught up in his research.

“Are you with me?” Stark asked, interrupting his train of thought.

“What are you talking about?” 

“You’ve been drifting around on autopilot for over a day.”

The man circled around him and plucked an empty mug from the table near his elbow. Loki vaguely remembered Stark giving it to him earlier, when it had been full of coffee.

“Not that this hasn’t been fun, but you really do need to pack.”

Stark paused, waiting for Loki to rise.

“Can I take this book?”

“No, but I’ll load all these onto an e-reader you can take, alright?” Stark jerked a thumb towards the books Loki had left on a nearby table, all of them lying open to where he had stopped.

“Ah.” Loki wasn’t exactly sure what an e-reader was, but as long as there was reading involved it should be acceptable. He got up, reluctantly put his book down with the others, and followed Stark down the hall.

He wished the text had gone into explicitly stating what Catholicism was. It explained the new sects that had formed and how they had come to be in great detail, but the core structure of the religion was glossed over. The focus was on what changed instead of what had been preserved. Loki could only speculate what was in that gap, but if something so important was omitted completely then the most likely explanation was that it was already common knowledge. With that, it would be safe to think that Christianity was still the dominant religion, and so the lack of information was even more maddening.

“ _ Hey _ .”

“Hm?” Loki suddenly realized that they were nearly outside his room.

“You weren’t listening, were you?”

“Ah. What were you saying?”

“Do you need a suitcase, or are you just gonna shove everything into hammerspace?”

“Hammer what?”

“Your magic hidey hole.”

“Why did you call it - no matter. I will use my ‘hammerspace’, yes.”

“Okay. By the way, I should tell you that while this building is air-conditioned, outside is really, really hot. Wakanda is a little cooler, but not by much. You can’t keep wearing sweaters. Friday bought you some summer clothes, didn’t she?”

“Are you referring to those inelegant . . . excuse me. No, I do not think I shall be bringing those along.”

Stark rolled his eyes. “Do you at least have some magic cooling spell to keep you from getting heatstroke?”

“I do. What’s more, if you ever find yourself struck by the need to wear proper clothing, I can do the same for you with little effort.”

“Yeah, no thanks. I like the heat.”

“Oh, of course you do.”

Stark had the gall to look amused. “Anyway, I’m gonna ditch you here, so gather up your stuff and I’ll go deal with those books. Maybe take the summer clothes just in case. It’s not like you’ve got limited capacity.”

“Goodbye, Stark.”

Loki retreated into his room, closing the door behind him. It wasn’t much of a hassle to gather up all the decent clothing he had been given, and there were precious few items he owned here besides them.

He was startled out of another reverie by a knock on his door. He wasn’t exactly sure how long he had been wondering how a few scattered colonies from different nations had rapidly become a major world power, but it was apparently long enough that he was missed.

“Yes?”

“Me again. Done?”

Loki sighed, rising from his chair to open the door. “Yes, Stark.”

“Good.” Stark hesitated. “So, we have a bit of a situation. Hulk can’t fit on the plane. He doesn’t exactly have an invite to Wakanda, either.”

“What are you saying?”

“If he’s still Hulk in thirty minutes we’ll have to leave him here.”

“And what, exactly, do you expect me to do?” He leaned against the doorframe, looking down his nose at the other man.

Stark wasn’t phased. “Romanoff used to be able to make Bruce come out, but Hulk got angry when he saw her and now he isn’t talking to any of us. I was thinking maybe you could do something?”

“Really, Stark? You wish for me to help you with this?”

“At the very least I want to tell him what’s going on. The problem is that he’s not really friendly with anyone who’s staying to hold down the fort, and we can’t exactly leave the newbies to deal with him without making sure he’s calmed down some. I’m just asking you to talk to him.”

“What then, Stark? Are you so easily bored of your ‘friend’? Shall it be another year before he sees the light of day again, if he does turn back for you? Or will he never be allowed to live at all? Why are you smiling?”

Stark’s pleased expression had been growing all this while. “That won’t happen.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because you’ll keep kicking up shit if it does.” Stark gave him a look that was almost fond. “It’s kind of sweet actually, the way you look out for each other.”

“ _ Do _ shut up.”

“Alright, alright, but at the very least can you tell him to play nice with Vision until we come back?”

Loki sighed, taking longer than was strictly necessary to formulate a reply. “I suppose that won’t do much harm.”

“Great.” Stark gestured for him to follow. While he was facing away, he started talking again. “I’m worried about this whole Bruce vs. Hulk thing too, you know.”

“I’m sure you are.”

“I mean about their well-being.”

“Hm.”

“I want to know if there’s any way I can help.” Stark glanced back at him, slowing his pace. “You obviously know more about all of this than me. Any chance you’d be willing to fill me in?”

“What is it, exactly, that you want to know?”

“Well I guess first of all, can they talk to each other? Any chance of them being able to work it out, or do they need a middleman to communicate?” Stark was walking backwards now to face him.

“That’s complicated.” Loki met his eyes and wondered if he could believe anything Stark was saying. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to explain it to you, though. Yes, they can communicate at any time, but doing so invites conflict. Any vulnerability towards the other makes it that much easier to retake control. It’s terribly difficult to convince them to make the effort.”

“You know, that’s better news than I expected. Can I assume you did convince them, at least once?”

“Thor managed to negotiate a truce of sorts with him as the enforcer, but it seems that’s been abandoned.” Loki had to wonder what the hel Thor had been up to to allow this to happen. Had he and Bruce remained separated for an entire year? He supposed it was possible, with Hulk bifrosted off to who-knows-where the chaos the entire universe must have descended into, but it felt like something was missing. After all, Thor had met up with Bruce eventually. Why hadn’t they talked about it then?

“What kind of truce?”

“They wouldn’t attack each other while they were meditating. They only managed to talk like that for a few minutes at a time, but at least they were talking. They could schedule who had their body and when.”

“Huh. So how did Thor enforce it?”

“Mostly by being very disappointed when they didn’t follow the rules.”

Stark cracked another smile. “Nice.”  
  
“Yes, but now what little trust they had between them is broken again I’m not sure reinstating the system is viable. One can hope, but if they can’t trust each other then an amicable chat is impossible.”

“Yeah, I can see why that’d be a problem. Could passing messages work?”

“I’m fairly certain that would depend on the messenger.”

“Point.”

They lapsed into silence for a moment.

“There was something else I tried,” Loki admitted. “Astral projection. If they had learned to adopt their asteral forms at will, then they could exist in and influence the world independent of each other, albeit with one being significantly more physical. Neither were especially quick studies, but we were making progress.”

Stark didn’t respond immediately. Loki glanced at him to see his brow furrowed in deep concentration. “So, uh . . . how long do you think it’d be before they’d actually pick that up?”

“I’ve no idea, honestly. Neither has been able to leave their body without assistance.”

“Huh.”

They rounded a corner to see a pair of solid-looking doors.

“Portal to the outside,” Stark said. “Don’t try anything, and put your cooling shield up ‘cause it’s hot out there.”

“Thank you for the warning.”

“No problem,” Stark said as he unlocked the door.

When he pulled it open, Loki had to shield his eyes against the sun. It was hotter than Loki had expected as well, though it took him less than a second to adjust his magic to compensate. It made him want to go to the library again. He could have sworn he saw a book about climates and weather patterns, but he had overlooked it in favor of learning more about the humans. He should have realized that the environment they’d be living in was more immediately relevant to his people. Would the surviving Asgardian livestock even be able to withstand this heat, or would special measures need to be put in place?

“Hi, Hulk!” Stark called from right beside him, startling him out of his musings. Loki followed his line of sight to see Hulk sprawled back in the grass, staring upwards. He took up most of Loki’s attention, but Loki was also vaguely aware of people hovering a few paces away.

Hulk’s hands tensed when he heard Stark’s voice. “I’ve got Loki, he wants to talk to you!”

Hulk grumbled and turned his head to look at them. He set his eyes on Loki for a moment before pushing himself to sit up.

“Stay here,” Loki told Stark. He didn’t know if the other man would listen, but if he didn’t it was no skin off his nose. He stepped forwards, barely blinking and keeping his eyes fixed on Hulk’s.

“Are you alright?” Though it didn’t seem so on the surface, Loki’s reason for asking the question was largely cynical. Hulk would be more receptive to Loki if he presented himself as a friendly ear. Hopefully it would also prevent Loki from being mashed into the ground.

“They want Banner.”

“I’ve heard. Something about Romanoff?”

“She the worst! She make Hulk go away! Thought we were friends when she let Hulk out, but she just want Banner again!”

Loki was close enough to reach out and pat Hulk on the arm and so he did. It did little to calm his rage.

“I’ve been tasked with telling you that you’ll be left here,” Loki began cautiously. “You can remain as you are, but they ask that you communicate with Vision. He’ll be the one supervising this place while Stark and the rest are away.”

“Vision ask for Banner?”

“He won’t. He’ll have no reason to ask once the plane to Wakanda leaves.”

“Wakanda?”

“That’s right. Asgard should arrive there soon. Thor, Valkyrie, the children; all of them have been invited to live in Wakanda for the foreseeable future. Of course, I’m sure they’ll be able to visit eventually.”

Hulk looked back up at the sky. “If Hulk leaves, Banner don’t let him see kids again  _ ever _ .”

“I’m in no position to promise anything.” Loki tilted his head back to watch the clouds with him. “It seems that Stark will be an ally in this, at least. If it is within my power, though, I will not let Banner forget you again.”

The silence wore on. Loki looked to see if his words had any effect, but Hulk was unusually hard to read.

“Do you trust me?”

Hulk looked almost sad.

“Hulk want to.”

He began to shrink. It was a much smoother transition than usual. He didn’t writhe in pain, only swayed to fall onto his back as the body became Banner’s again.

Banner moaned, rubbing his eyes as if he just woke up. He squinted at himself, froze, then looked around wildly.

“Bruce,” Loki said curtly, and with a flick of his fingers covered him with an illusion of casual Asgardian garb. “You’ll want to get dressed.” He looked over his shoulder at Stark, who was still several paces away. “Stark!”

He jogged over. “Did you just make clothes appear?”

“No. Don’t hit him, they’ll vanish. For now, though, no one will see through them except, unfortunately, for me. You were trying to turn him back, were you not? You must have a change of clothing around.”

“Right, yeah. Hi Bruce.” He cast his eyes around. “Who has the -”

Loki didn’t catch who threw the small fabric pouch at Stark.

“Yeah, thanks! Here you go, buddy. Your emergency supply.”

“Thanks,” Bruce sighed. He already looked resigned.

Loki turned around. He didn’t want to catch a glimpse of anything. He had already seen far too much of Bruce for his liking.

“Done,” Bruce said softly behind him.

Loki turned around to see the clothes he had conjured on Bruce intersecting with whatever baggy monstrosity he had just put on.

“You’re clipping worse than a Bethesda game,” Stark said. “It’s freaky. It’s giving me a headache, actually. Loki, mind turning that off?”

Loki banished the illusion with a wave, revealing that Bruce was wearing soft casual clothing with STARK INDUSTRIES emblazoned across his chest and down one leg.

“This is more of an eyesore,” Loki complained. Bruce scowled at him before standing up and dusting himself off.

“What did I miss?”

“Not much, but we’re going to Wakanda in, uh . . . ten minutes? Good thing you packed early, right? You might wanna change out of that though.”

“Oh Jesus,” Bruce said. “Oh god, okay, I’ll go take care of that. The other guy didn’t, um . . . break anything, did he?”

“No, actually.”

“Well at least there’s that,” Bruce sighed, then hurried off towards the building.

Loki managed to wait a full second after he watched Banner disappear inside the building to ask what clipping was.

“Uh, it’s when graphics intersect with each other in a simulation or a video game or something. So, when the sweatpants intersected with your illusion . . .”

“Ah! Fascinating.”

The other people in the field had wandered towards them. Loki tried to ignore the feeling of being surrounded.

“So, Stark! You managed to drag him out of the library.”

That was Scott’s voice. Loki took a deep breath. He had a growing suspicion he was about to be mocked.

The man circled him to be able to meet his eyes. “Hey, Loki. Welcome back to the land of the living!”

“Scott.”

“I was almost worried you were gonna be a book zombie forever! Did you finish reading all of human history?”

“Not quite.”

“Friday’s loading up an e-reader,” Stark said. “Maybe he’ll finish when he’s on the plane.”

“Sweet. Well, have fun on your trip, you two. I’m gonna go back inside, it is sweltering. Say hi to Thor for me!”

All things considered that encounter went better than Loki had expected.

“How many people, exactly, are coming with us on this trip?” he asked Stark, glancing around at the remaining people. Romanoff waved at him.

“All the originals! Your old buddies,” Stark grinned. “Strange will be popping in and out too, I think.”

“Ah.”

“Barton’s inside. Said he’d be too tempted to shoot you if he saw you and Hulk being friendly.”

“Did you tell him about . . .” Loki cleared his throat, adopting a deeper rumbly voice, “‘Hulk no smash for Loki’?”

“Better than that - we showed him the video.”

Loki rubbed his temple. That probably meant Barton had seen his breakdown. Loki had let himself be overwhelmed by his own fear, and the Avengers had to know that an unstable mind is a dangerous one. Beyond that, though, knowing that yet another person had seen it was mortifying.

Stark checked his watch before addressing his companions. “Shouldn’t be long. Hulk’s not out here anymore, but I have to wonder if it’s worth going inside to get settled just to walk right back out again.”

“I’ll tell Clint it’s safe to come out,” Romanoff murmured, already looking at her phone.

“Hopefully Bruce doesn’t take too long,” Stark sighed.

Since the attention was off him for the moment, Loki took the opportunity to shift himself away from the center of the group. He was under no illusion that it wouldn’t be noticed, but he felt more comfortable on the outskirts.

A breeze picked up, rustling the grass and blowing Loki’s hair into his face. He brushed it out of the way but the wind grew steadily wilder. He turned around just in time to see a ship ripple into existence.

It landed smoothly, its walkway descending onto the ground below. A moment later a severe-looking woman descended the stairs and stepped to the side. She stood like a guard, holding her spear firmly and looking straight ahead. Loki suspected she was well-trained in combat as well. He was in the middle of looking for any weaknesses in her stance when a hand clapped him firmly on the back.

“Come on,” Stark grinned. “We’re going to Wakanda.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's been a while, huh? Sorry about that - I wrote an entire chapter before deciding I hated it, scrapping it, and beginning work on a different one. I'm much happier with this result, at least!
> 
> A short summary of the scrapped chapter is in the notes.

Loki caught sight of the monument as they were landing. The fact that he could see it at all was a testament to its size - it was carved into a cliff face far from the city, and yet he could still make out the gigantic black cat. He couldn’t be sure who or what it represented, but he did know he was jealous.

As they descended tall buildings began to block his view. He shifted focus, studying the Wakandan pilot as she landed the plane. The descent was slow and controlled and with how long he’d spent stuck in the plane already, forced to sit in a cramped back portion of the ship behind a wall of energy, the whole event felt like an eternity. He fantasized again about sending the plane plummeting from the sky. The idea had been entertaining him for the past few hours. He could do it, too - the energy barrier wasn’t properly shielded, and he could follow it right back to the very heart of the plane. It was a terrible design choice and one that made it very clear that Wakanda wasn’t used to dealing with sorcerers. He allowed himself another moment of smugness before he let it go. If he crashed the plane he might not get to see Thor, and besides which Bruce might be too stupidly stubborn to let Hulk out and save himself.

Eventually, the plane did land, so smoothly that Loki barely felt a jolt. The Avengers began to rise and stretch, working out any soreness from the long fight. Loki would have liked to as well, but the shimmery barrier was still keeping him closed in for now. Instead he watched them, wondering which one had the controller. He didn’t think Rogers still had it, not after the first few days. No, someone else would have been given it to throw Loki off. He had to see Thor first, but afterwards the knowledge would be invaluable in case things went south.

The other Wakandan guard stepped up to his cell, planting her spear firmly on the ground. She didn’t reach for the panel to turn off the barrier immediately, instead taking a moment to stare at him like he was an animal in a cage. It was a transparent intimidation tactic and he wouldn’t be cowed, at least visibly.

The pilot joined her and she finally typed in the door’s code. The guard lingered in the doorway for a moment before stepping aside, letting Rogers crowd him instead. The man took hold of his bicep, pulling him up before guiding him out of the plane.

The sun was so bright Loki had to squint when he stepped out. Light reflected off the spears of yet more warriors who were lining the path in front of him, and a ball of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to wait in the shade of the plane until he could see properly, but Rodgers didn’t seem to have the patience. He began pushing, and after a moment more Loki allowed himself to be led.

That didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to comment on it. “You do know I’m stronger than you? If I wanted to break your hold, I could.”

“I know. This is for show, but you’ll want to cooperate. The Wakandans don’t know Thor well enough for any goodwill towards him to extend to you.”

“Thank you for informing me of this in such a timely manner.”

Rogers sighed. “Yeah, I know, but drop the attitude for a bit, alright? I really don’t want to negotiate your release from a Wakandan dungeon.”

Loki shrugged. “Fair enough.”

Rogers directed him towards a line of people that seemed to be waiting to greet them. Loki assumed the man in the middle was T’Challa. He looked kingly enough, by Loki’s standard. Beside him was another severe looking warrior who Loki guessed was of a higher status, judging by the gold around her neck. Perhaps she was the personal guard of the king? On T’Challa’s other side was an older woman with a tall headdress, and next to her was a young woman who seemed to regrettably be following the fashion trends of the humans Loki was more familiar with.

“T’Challa,” Rogers said, nodding. “Thanks for having us back.”

The man’s face split into a grin. “You are always welcome here. Just try to not break anything this time.”

“No promises,” Stark said, ambling up next to them.

Loki might have continued to listen to their conversation but a movement drew his eye. There were many other planes here, which led Loki to believe this was some kind of landing yard. Something darker than the shadows they cast was pacing and weaving around their bases. It seemed to notice Loki’s attention because it disappeared a moment later.

“Admiring our ships?”

Loki’s gaze snapped back to T’Challa. “Of course,” he said. “They’re much more impressive than anything I thought Earth had to offer.”

T’Challa smiled in a way that didn’t reach his eyes. “Wakanda has been blessed with abundant resources. We have managed to keep ahead of the rest of the world’s technology. In the past we kept a tradition of not interfering in the world’s affairs, but let me assure you of this. If you had by some miracle managed to take New York, Wakanda would have been there to stop your invasion. You were never going to win.”

“I take it you’re not very fond of me,” Loki said primly.

“What reason do I have to like you?”

Talking had been a mistake. Stark seemed particularly amused at the hole Loki had just dug himself.

“I suppose that’s fair,” he said calmly. “I am past that point in my life though, I assure you.”

“I certainly hope you are.”

The threat was clear from the way T’Challa said it. Loki was afraid he would continue, but after a moment T’Challa turned his attention to something else. Loki tried not to give in to the sting of being ignored. It wasn’t so awful when the person ignoring him could give the order for him to be killed.

He saw a flicker near the ships again and tried not to be obvious about looking this time. He couldn’t see it immediately. There was nothing in the shadows, but then he caught a brief movement that made him look up.

On top of one of the ships, a cat was sunning itself. It was large, possibly larger than a human, and all black. The cat sat almost perfectly still except for an occasional twitch of the tail.

Her bright blue eyes were looking right at him.

There was something about her that set him on edge. Her eyes weren’t narrowed, her body wasn’t tense and lowered for stalking, but still he felt hunted. He told himself it was because he was already surrounded by enemies and had been unsettled since he landed and so of course he wouldn’t like the local fauna, that’s all there was to it. At least she wasn’t a bilgesnipe.

“So, where’s Bucky?” Rogers asked. To Loki the name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. He could have sworn it was something Barton had told him so it was probably best to not to bring it up regardless. Rogers's question had already served to make the atmosphere colder.

“He didn’t know if coming to greet you here was a good idea.” T’Challa’s eyes shifted from Rogers to Stark, who looked decidedly uncomfortable.

“Aw, hell,” Stark muttered.

“You can still see him soon, Captain,” T’Challa continued. “Now, we-” 

“I’m not going to try and kill him again,” Stark blurted out. “I won’t. Fuck. I didn’t know...” He ran a hand through his hair in agitation.“It’s fine if he doesn’t want to see me, I’m not exactly eager to see him either, but...Cap, I’m sorry.”

Rogers looked pained. “We probably need to talk about this but we should do it later.”

“Yep, alright, I can do that,” Stark said, avoiding Rogers’s eyes.

“Shall we go?” T’Challa asked. “It is a bit of a walk from here to where you will be staying, but I planned to give you a tour.”

“Sounds great,” Stark said a little too loudly.

“We have a Starbucks now,” T’Challa continued, motioning for the group to follow him. A few of the women picked up their spears to accompany them as well. “I know for you that isn’t out of the ordinary, but Okoye is happy.”

He smiled at the woman with gold accents. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and her lips twitched upwards.

Wakanda itself was picturesque. Loki wouldn’t admit to it being as beautiful as Asgard, because of course nothing could be, but at least he could appreciate the designs of most buildings. He quite liked one which had spirals of a walkway curled around it, though he had no idea how practical that was. His eyes traveled over it, tracing upwards, but he flinched in surprise when he saw the cat again.

She was sitting a few levels up on the building, resting in the shade of the walkway above. This time she was perfectly still and upright with her tail curled around her. She held herself regally and was very much looking down on him.

“What’s up?” Rogers asked, squinting in the direction Loki was looking in.

“There’s a cat,” Loki said plainly, but before he finished the sentence she got up and stalked behind the tower.

“A cat?”

“She’s gone now.”

Loki hadn’t meant to be overheard, but Romanoff seemed to have anyway.

“Do you like cats?”

“They’re fine.” He shrugged. “My aunt likes them. They’re part of her domain, actually.”

Romanoff’s eyebrows furrowed. “Her domain?”

“As a goddess.”

The attention of the entire group seemed to be shifting back to Loki, and he wasn’t sure if he appreciated it.

Stark grinned. “Makes sense that somebody’s aunt would be the god of cats.”

“I’m not sure of the meaning of what you just said but your tone made it clear it was an insult,” Loki said disdainfully. “I’d be careful if I were you. Vanaheim is still intact.”

“Vanaheim? That your aunt?”

“Wh-  _ no _ . Her name is Freyja and she _ rules _ Vanaheim. Along with her brother.”

“Huh.” Stark scratched his nose. “So...what’s Vanaheim?”

“Has Thor told you  _ nothing _ ?”

Stark shrugged. “Not really. I mean, I get that Vanaheim is probably a place, but is it a country, or a planet, or?”

“Both. It’s the land of the Vanir.”

“You got Asgardians ruling a planet that isn’t theirs?” Stark hissed through his teeth. “That doesn’t sound great.”

“Freyja and her twin are both Vanir. Mother was Vanir.”

“Wait,” the woman dressed in Western fashion spoke up. “Doesn’t that mean you and Thor are mixed?”

The older woman gave her a look.

“What?” she said in a near whisper. “I’m just asking.”

“Well, I’m adopted, so no,” he said, surprising himself by how calmly he could say it. “But Thor is. Who are you, again?”

“Shuri,” she said, entirely unphased. “Leader of the Wakandan Design Group and sister of the king.”

“Hm.” She was flippant, but it didn’t slip past him that she was the first Wakandan to talk to him in a way that wasn’t hostile. “I meant to say this before, but I thank you and your family for agreeing to take Asgard in. I don’t know much about the circumstances, and more than likely my gratitude means nothing to you, but regardless. You have my thanks.”

An uncomfortable look crept onto Shuri’s face, and she turned away and sped up to walk beside her brother. The older woman took over and fell into step beside Loki.

“I am the Queen Mother, Ramonda,” she said, nodding at him. “Your brother came to our aid when we needed him the most. If not for him, the death toll would have been much higher. We owe a debt, and moreover Wakanda would consider Asgard its friend.”

“I am glad to hear that you would,” Loki said. “Though I cannot speak for Thor and return the compliment.”

She nodded, and the conversation ended there.

The guards shifted formation, spreading out to form a row to either side. Soon Loki saw why. They were entering a more populated district. The people gave way for the procession, most of them keeping to themselves and going about their business, but a few stopped to stare. Loki kept his head down. Being a prisoner guided through a crowd brought back bad memories. Last time he had realized his father had already disclosed his heritage to the entire court.

He couldn’t stop himself from looking up, just to see how bad it was, but instead of seeing the cold expressions his imagination had conjured he caught sight of that damned cat.

She was a few feet away, weaving in and out between the legs of the crowd. The humans didn’t react; they didn’t even look down. Just as before, her eyes were right on Loki.

He blinked and she was gone.

Loki jerked himself forwards, dragging Rogers with him. The guards read it as aggression, and nigh instantly he had their spear tips pointed at his throat. Loki reared back out of instinct. He felt a sharp point slice through his sweater and the skin underneath. He’d had enough experience with being stabbed to be able to gauge a weapon’s sharpness, and he was horribly aware that they would be able to kill him.

There was one upside. He had T’Challa’s attention.

“What is the significance of that large statue on the mountain?”

“What?” T’Challa’s defensive stance barely relaxed.

“The large black cat. I saw it when I was landing.”

“Why are you asking this?”

“Is she a god?” Loki’s eyes wildly scanned the crowd again, looking for a hint of her continued presence. This was bad. He should have realized sooner, but her energy coated everything here and was spread so thin it was barely noticeable. If he had walked over the border he would have felt it, but Loki had been flown right into the middle of her territory.

He had been invited, though, hadn’t he? Her people had brought him here. She must have known he was coming. Loki wasn’t an invader, he was a prisoner, and she had no reason to attack him. Loki’s panic faded a little when he realized that she might just be curious.

His primary concern became the spears. “I didn’t know there was another god here,” he said by way of explanation. He opened his hands upwards as a gesture of peace. “I apologize. It was a bit of a shock.”

A murmur ran through the crowd. Loki was suddenly very aware that the surrounding Wakandans had stopped to stare at him.

After another tense moment T’Challa walked forwards, fixing his intense gaze upon Loki. “Why are you asking this now?”

“I saw her - a projection of her. Just now, in the crowd.”

“If you are telling the truth, then I will ask you this. What color are her eyes?”

“They’re blue.”

T’Challa let out a breath.

His reaction confirmed a sneaking suspicion Loki had. If such a weight was placed on the simple act of seeing her it meant that she didn’t have a physical form. She was a spirit god, and those were a chore to deal with.

“If I’ve managed to prove my sincerity to your satisfaction, would you mind having your guards lower their weapons?”

T’Challa waved his hand and the spears were pulled away, the women shifting back into their regular stance. Loki took the opportunity to cover his shoulder with an illusion.

“Why can you see her?” T’Challa asked.

“I’m a god.”

“No you aren’t,” Rogers said instantly. “T’Challa, is he saying he saw Bast?”

“What the hel do you mean I’m not?” Loki asked. “Of course I am.”

“There’s only one god,” Rogers said automatically before realizing he had said it in front of the Wakandans as well. His face colored with shame

“I knew what you believed already, Captain,” T’Challa said. “I, however, will proceed with the belief that my god is real.”

“Who is supposed to be the only god?” Loki demanded. “Thor?”

Stark snorted. “God,” he said. And then, “Seriously, that’s your answer. It’s supposed to be God.”

Loki’s eyebrows drew together as he tried in vain to puzzle out the meaning of that.

“Okay, just, before we get into this debate,” Bruce said from the periphery. “I asked about this, and for Asgardians being a god means having an inherent power that can’t be learned or taught.”

“There’s more to it than that!” Loki protested.

Bruce sighed and didn’t respond. Stark was more curious.

“Like what?”

“I can see Bast, can’t I?”

“I’m not sure hallucinations really prove your point,” Stark said, scratching his ear. “You’re crazier than I thought, though.”

Loki growled. He noticed Bruce was giving Stark a look, which made him feel marginally better.

“Why would she appear to you?” T’Challa asked.

“I assume because she’s not used to other gods wandering into her territory,” he said. “Beyond that, I have no idea. She’s done nothing but watch me.” The more he thought about it, though, the more it didn’t make sense. She didn’t have a physical form, so she had to be appearing to him intentionally. “It might be a warning so that I know this area is under her protection.”

“That would make sense,” T’Challa conceded. “I will believe this for now, but we have ways of talking to her as well.”

“I would be surprised if you didn’t.”

T’Challa nodded and motioned for the procession to start moving again. Whispers broke out behind them as the crowd of civilians unfroze.

“I  _ am _ a god,” Loki muttered at Rogers. The man ignored him.

The tour was going faster now, and Loki wondered if T’Challa had some sort of time frame or was just eager to verify that Bast was indeed stalking him. Either way he was glad for it; he was hoping that when they reached their destination the cuffs would finally come off. His shoulders were beginning to ache. He supposed that technically he could break out of them himself, because although they were made out of an incredibly strong material they suffered from the same security holes as the plane had, but then the one card Loki had to play here would be lost.

When he saw Bast again he pulled up short, staring right back at her where she was lounging in the branches of a tree.

“I know you overheard that entire conversation!” Loki called out to her. “Is there something else you want?”

Bast leapt gracefully down from the tree, paused a moment to meet his eyes again, and then darted back into the undergrowth.

“She say anything?” Bruce asked.

“I’m beginning to think that even divine cats can’t talk. She’s gone, anyway.” Loki fell back into step with the others.

“You’re not actually buying this, are you?” Stark scoffed. “Seriously, Bruce, I know you don’t believe in God.”

“Um.” Bruce grimaced. “Actually...I mean, as scientists, we’re supposed to change our beliefs based on the evidence, right?”

“You’re not serious.”

“I mean, given what I’ve seen...I think the Asgardians are gods, Tony.”

Stark stared. “You’re serious.”

“Yeah. There’s just so much, I can’t go over it all right now, but, yeah. I think Bast is probably real too. I’m still out on Jesus.”

“Oh, come on,” Rogers muttered.

“I guess...” Stark began, then stopped. “I guess if one of the smartest guys I know can believe it...I’ll think about it. Maybe. I’m gonna need you to share notes, though.”

Romanoff seemed to be focused on another aspect of Bruce’s beliefs.

“Do you think Loki’s a god?”

“Come on, Nat,” Bruce sighed. “I do, but not like that. I’m not about to worship anybody. I mean, Loki’s not even that type of god, anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“He means,” Loki began, “That I am not the type of god that needs worshipers to sustain my existence.”

“That’s not exactly what I was going for, but alright?” Bruce frowned at him. “I mean, Asgardians though? Mostly if you want them to do something for you, you pay them money. Like normal people with unusual skills. It’s not really a mystical thing. Besides which, his domain is...uh...”

“Actually, yeah,” Stark said, latching on to a new topic “What’s Loki the god of, anyway?”

Loki thought he might as well bite the bullet. “Mischief,” he said, knowing full well what kind of jokes at his expense were imminent.

“Mischief?”

“Pranks. Japery. Shenanigans. Need I go on?”

Wow,” Stark grinned. “No wonder you resent Thor.”

“Ah. I’ve never heard that before. No, in all the one thousand and fifty-four years of my existence, not one person has thought to make that joke. Congratulations.”

“What can a god of mischief even do?”

“Influence probabilities, you ignorant berk.”

Stark was still grinning, and it looked like he was about to say more when another group of Wakandans appeared. They were dressed in purple, and Loki wondered if there was any significance to that. They bowed before approaching their king, and the guards parted to let them pass.

“My king,” their leader said in a language Loki didn’t recognize. He wondered if they were trying to hide something from their English-speaking guests. It was moments like these where he was most grateful for the Allspeak.

“We have received a message from Bast,” she continued. “She told us she wanted the visiting god brought into her temple, into the inner sanctum.”

The back of Loki’s neck prickled. He wasn’t at all eager to see what awaited him at that place. It would be the place where her power was most concentrated. She could be able to manifest. She might be able to kill him.

“That can be arranged,” T’Challa answered in the same tongue. “Did she say anything else?”

“No, my king.”

T’Challa noded, though he couldn’t hide a certain level of disappointment. “Alright. We will bring him to the temple.”

It had come to a moment where Loki had to make a decision. He could tell the Avengers what had just gone over their heads, but that would be pointless. Bruce was the only one who might possibly listen and care. Going along with this was a considerable risk, but at least he would know what she wanted. If things came down to it he could shuck the handcuffs and run.

T’Challa announced a change in plans, motioning for them to follow the group in purple. Loki barely paid attention to the group’s confusion and T’Challa’s deflections. He focused on steeling himself against whatever he was about to face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been desperate to write Bast for ages, you have no idea.
> 
> So, the original idea was to have a scene on the plane that would descend into an exploration of different forms of religions, but it got way too heavy and technical. I'm very interested in different ideas of how religion can work - for example, Loki thinks all gods are real, while Steve is functioning under the assumption that there's only one true god. The conversation would have been lively and interesting but I decided writing it this way was more "show don't tell" and would be a better way to introduce this fic's ideas about how gods work in this universe.
> 
> Anyway, thoughts? I'm so happy to get this out, thank you for reading!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's been a while! I guess sporadic updates is the game now.
> 
> You may have noticed the new tag I added. I really, honestly expected Endgame to be better than it was. I was invested in the storyline and characters so when I didn't like the conclusions to their stories it ended up bumming me out. I'm going to move forward as if Endgame didn't exist so for the most part this fanfic is spoiler free.

After a few minutes of hushed deliberation among the Wakandans, T’Challa switched back to speaking English.

“There’s been a change in plans,” he explained. “If you want to head to your accommodations, Shuri and my mother will lead you there. Okoye and I will be going to Bast’s temple. You may join us if you wish.”

“You make it sound so boring,” Shuri moaned. “This is the first time foreigners have been invited inside. True, we haven’t had many around to invite, but it’s still a first.”

“Really?” Stark asked. “To what do we owe the honor?”

T’Challa paused a moment before answering. “Bast has requested Loki’s presence.” He shrugged and flashed him a smile. “It would be rude to not invite you.”

Tony opened his mouth, stopped, and reconsidered. “Seems like fun,” he said diplomatically.

In the end, Barton and Romanoff elected to leave. Barton said something vague about them having to make a call. Loki wondered if it was to his family, at the safehouse Barton had mentioned. Had he told his other companions about them yet? It wouldn’t be the first time he knew something Thor didn’t.

The temple itself was not too dissimilar from the buildings surrounding it, save for the two cat statues guarding the entrance. There was no door. Instead, it had an open archway which was most likely a symbolic invitation to enter. There were windows with no glass in them to let the light inside, and a large stone overhang to keep the weather out.

“This place is connected to the City of the Dead,” T’Challa told them as they stepped inside of the dimly lit hall, “though it is not technically a part of it.”

“Let me guess, catacombs?” Tony said.

“Exactly that,” T’Challa answered without looking back. He lifted a torch from its sconce and as he walked forwards the guttering flame revealed a stone staircase a few yards ahead that lead deeper into the ground.

They descended into a hallway that led to a cavernous chamber. It was lit by hundreds of dimly flickering braziers. The walls had straight-edged chunks carved out of them in a way that had to be deliberate, but the reason for the rectilinear design was unclear. Loki saw tunnels leading out in every direction like spokes, as well as a grand spiral stair and shallow pools of water surrounding it.  It might have been beautiful, but there was a sense of malaise that hung over everything.

Loki let out a small sigh of relief when T’Challa led them down another nearby path. The heavy atmosphere seemed confined to that chamber. He guessed something terrible must have happened there. If the feeling extended throughout the whole temple he might have cause to worry.

Up ahead there was a well-lit room whose light threw the recesses in the wall into deep shadow. Loki almost startled when one of the shadows opened its yellow eyes. The small black cat stretched, leapt down from its perch, paused briefly to sniff at the hem of T’Challa’s robes, then wandered into the room ahead of them.

Whatever they had expected from the room, this wasn’t it.

Steve raised his eyebrows. “So...you  _ do _ like cats.”

“I do not mind them,” T’Challa answered with a smile, reaching to scratch one behind the ears.

The chamber was a paradise for felines. Loki briefly tried to count the number of cats, then looked at the others and realized they were doing the same. It was impossible to see them all, though; there were many places for them to hide. There were shelves that a cat could use to leap up towards wooden bridges along the ceiling and toys of all sorts. Walkways led up to two slanted holes above, which let the cats out and the sunlight in. They were easily wide enough for a full grown man to pass through.

With his mind back to humans, Loki couldn’t help but think this room wasn’t suited to them at all. The floors were uneven and sloping up to the side opposite the door, so much so that it was hard to tell where the floor stopped and the wall began. The walls were rough stone, and he only needed to look past all the current decor and the floor smoothed out by centuries of human feet to see this used to be a cave. Perhaps it still could be considered one, though it had been taken over and given a purpose. The only part that had been altered for human use was the connecting tunnel behind him.

Loki could feel Bast’s presence even more acutely when he set eyes on a small stone alcove. There, the floor hadn’t been worn smooth. There was a kneeling mat laid out in the center of the floor. Despite the presence of what could pass for a suitable bed, none of the temple cats had wandered in to sleep.

“Kneel,” a woman’s voice said from behind him. “Over there, on the mat.” He suspected it was Okoye, but didn’t feel confident enough to turn around. She could very well have her spear pointed at his back.

“Alright,” he sighed, and pretended not to see the surprised looks at his acquiescence. They must take him for some mannerless cretin, then. He tried not to let it annoy him. They were backwards themselves, anyway, so what did it matter if they thought he’d do such a boorish, dangerous thing as refuse to observe niceties in the inner sanctum of another god?

Loki didn’t let the moment drag out. He knelt where he was told, facing the wall, and noticed that not all of the alcove was untouched. On the wall at his current eye level there was an ancient faded depiction of a cat.

He was focusing on that when there was a flicker of movement to his left. He snapped his head to the side, only to see a flash of a large, black tail. Loki’s skin prickled and for a moment he stopped breathing.

Bast was right behind him. Loki swallowed hard before he realized that perhaps he should greet her. He wanted to steady himself so that whatever he said wouldn’t come out sounding shaky and weak.

She started to make a low rumbling noise and his mouth went dry. Was that aggression, or was it more akin to a purr? She moved to circle around him and while she did he was struck by just how large she was. He had known she would be, but now he was kneeling and his eyes were level with her shoulders the feeling of dread was much more visceral.

 Her bright eyes fixed on his face.

“Hello,” Loki forced himself to say. His voice sounded just as unsteady as he felt.

He nearly jumped when he heard a muffled yelp from behind him, followed by Bruce hissing at Stark to be quiet.

Bast didn’t respond. She blinked at him slowly and continued to pace, assessing him but keeping her distance. Loki watched her as well. He was no expert on cats, but while her body language didn’t exactly come off as friendly at least she wasn’t snarling with her ears flattened against her skull. Loki let some of the tension drain from him and waited for her next move.

She paused in front of him on her next circuit. Her nose started to twitch, and then, very slowly, she stretched her neck towards him.

Loki caught himself leaning backward and then, not wanting to appear completely intimidated, tilted his chin up in defiance. This was a bad idea. Bast surged forward, and he felt it when her wet nose made contact with the side of his neck.

He shrieked, falling onto his back, and had a brief moment to see all the faces looking down on him and make panicked eye contact with Bruce before Bast filled his vision again. She laid one paw on his chest, her claws pricking his skin, and huffed a breath that blew the hair back from his face.

Stark muttered, “What the fuck?”

It was the last thing Loki heard before Bast pressed her muzzle to his forehead, and then the world around him seemed to melt away.

His body remained where it was, prone on the cave floor with pinpricks of blood setting into his sweater and his eyes glowing an unearthly blue.

* * *

Loki came to under a tree in a place dimly lit by the dancing lights of the aurora overhead. He tried to orient himself for a moment, and then he noticed several sets of eyes blinking down at him and decided he could worry about that later. He scrambled out from under the tree and to his feet, trying to count just how many cats he had to square off against now.

“They mean you no harm,” said a voice that seemed to come from everywhere, and Loki nearly jumped out of his skin.

“I do not mean to harm you, either,” she continued. “I have brought you here to talk.”

“Where are you?”

“To your right.”

His head whipped round and he caught sight of her lounging in the short grass. She shifted, kneading at the ground in front of her, and settled her head on her paws.

“It’s easier to speak like this,” she told him. Her mouth didn’t move. “Directly. I don’t often get the opportunity.”

“Ah. And what is it, exactly, that you’d like to talk about?”

“I would make you an offer.”

“Would you?” Loki drawled. Internally he was relieved that this encounter was shifting towards something he knew how to deal with. “What is it that you want from me?”

“You are not like me,” Bast began. “You have physical form.”

“What, do you want me to kill someone for you?” Loki sighed. “I’m not really in a position to do that.”

“I’m aware,” Bast replied patiently. “Beyond that, if I wanted someone dead I’d use T’Challa. He’s the one who protects these lands. No, what I’m interested in is your sorcery.”

“Is that so?”

“I have heard that you are one of the most powerful sorcerers Asgard has ever produced. Is this true?”

Loki’s face split into a satisfied grin. “Where did you hear that?”

“I overheard your brother.”

Surprise made his smile slip, and his heart grew heavy and warm at the same time. “Ah,” he said faintly. “Ah. Well. Mother - Frigga - taught me all I knew, and she was undoubtedly the most powerful of all. In turn, I am skilled.”

“Good. This is the offer I want to make. You allow me to channel my energy through you and use your power to make a material object, and in return, I will swear my protection to the Asgardians that set foot in this land. Are these terms acceptable?”

Loki narrowed his eyes. “What kind of object?”

“A plant,” Bast answered easily.

“A plant?”

“Yes. I realize this requires some explanation, and I will try to make it as short as possible. A very long while ago, I dedicated myself to influencing the evolution of a particular species of plant. It took hundreds of years and when it was finished I gave it as a gift to my people.”

“Why would you go to all that trouble?”

“The plants had a part of my spirit in them. It could make a human stronger. It was a blessing for a chosen few.”

“Ah. And why exactly do you need me to make another one of them?”

“A year ago, all of them burned.”

“Well, I can see why that’d be aggravating.”

“Yes. Very much so, to the point where I’m willing to make a deal with you.”

“Mm.” Loki’s mouth quirked up. An insult shouldn’t have been quite so amusing. “And how exactly would you go about protecting my people? You don’t exactly have much sway over the physical world, by your own admission.”

“I am a goddess of protection. I can influence outcomes the same as you, and I have champions to carry out my will. T’Challa is one such champion.”

Loki had to admit to himself that her blessing would be a comfort. Instead of being refugees relying on goodwill brought about by what Rodgers had claimed was an acquaintanceship with Thor, Asgard would be able to provide a service. Their footing would be much more even. He put a hand over his mouth, turning to the side to look out across the scrubland.

“Where are we, anyway?”

“Djalia. My home. The humans call it the ancestral plane.”

“Ah. So those cats...?”

“Humans.”

Loki tried not to grimace. “I’m surprised this place isn’t more crowded.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bast sit up. “It’s crowded enough. No one here has to be lonely.”

Loki spun on his heel to face her. “I will consider taking you up on your offer,” he said, in part to change the subject. “As long as your power will not be used against Asgard.”

“I can only make that promise with the understanding that it is void if Asgard becomes an aggressor against us.”

“Naturally. I’d also like to make sure your ‘champion’ is also willing to uphold this bargain as well. He and I will have to discuss what that entails.”

“I suppose it will be easier for you to speak to him directly,” Bast mused. “Tell him to meditate tonight before he sleeps, and to burn kyphi. I will visit him in his dreams. Before then he can make any deal he likes with you, but I demand that the oath not be binding if you have lied or otherwise misled him.”

“I imagine he’ll say something similar. Can I negotiate the legal part of this agreement without your input?”

“T’Challa can make his own decisions. I leave the ruling of Wakanda to him.”

“Splendid.”

“Once you are awake in the mortal world once more, I will not be able to talk to you. When the agreement is made I will approach you, and that is when you will uphold your end of the bargain.” She stretched and got to her feet, locking eyes with him again. “Don’t act like I’m going to eat you.”

Loki winced. Just remembering how frightened he’d been flooded him with shame.

For a moment Bast looked hesitant, her head tilted to the side. “I may look like an animal, but I do not indulge in savagery. I’m very sensitive about that.”

Loki’s brow furrowed. He was going to ask why she’d tell him that when the world blinked out of existence and he was on the floor again. The disorientation made him feel ill.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Stark said while Loki struggled to sit up. To Loki’s surprise, Stark strode over and offered a hand to help him to his feet.

“What’s got  _ you _ so relieved?” Loki muttered, pushing him away as soon as he felt steady.

Stark’s face smoothed into something that looked more like his usual expression. “Well, if you died Thor’d be pretty pissed.”

Loki looked down at himself and began brushing the dirt off his sleeves.

“So,” Stark continued after a short, uncomfortable silence. “What did Bast want to talk about?”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Unforeseen Friendship](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18847450) by [Zaniida](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaniida/pseuds/Zaniida)




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